The One They Fear
by fujioka44
Summary: A Dunmer becomes Dragonborn when she is pulled into the confusing yet exciting story of Skyrim! With the power of the Voice and the title of Dovahkiin, what adventures await her?  Possible pairings. May Contain Main Quest and Dark Brotherhood Spoilers.
1. Chapter 1

Dark eyes.

The color of night.

Dark hair.

The color of ink.

Light skin.

A small tinge of blue and grey.

Sharp ears.

Heard extreme detail.

The carriage tumbled over a small bump and its passengers were tossed around slightly.

It could barely be labeled a carriage.

It had no cover, which caused the cold of Skyrim to pour onto the passengers.

Passengers.

No.

Prisoners.

A young woman slowly awoke from her light slumber.

Her face stung from the bitter cold of the harsh temperature.

Her hands were still bound..

"Oh.. You're finally awake."

She looked up from the wood of the carriage bottom and met the brown eyes of a kind-looking Nord.

She didn't respond.

He chuckled nervously, trying to wipe some dirt off of his face with his bound hands.

"I was worried you'd never wake up."

She stared into his eyes lifelessly, not replying.

"You.. were trying to cross the border.. Weren't you? You would have gotten away with it if it weren't for that Imperial ambush."

The carriage rolled lazily over a bump.

"What about you, horse thief? How were you caught?"

The Dark Elf woman looked to her right to another Nord with short, dark hair.

He looked anxious, angry, and confused.

There was someone sitting across from him with a rag over his mouth.

The other Nord answered angrily, but shakily, "I would've been half way to Hammerfell if it weren't for you! You.. you.. Imperials!"

The man driving the carriage grumbled, "Quiet back there!"

The command was ignored and the shorthaired Nord glanced at the man across from him.

"What's his problem?" He asked.

"You're speaking to the Jarl of Windhelm.. Ulfric Stormcloak. Leader of the rebellion" the blonde Nord answered.

The Dark Elf sat up a little straighter and looked at the Jarl.

He was staring back.

"W-wait.. If.. He's here... By the Nine.. Where are they taking us?" The dark haired Nord asked frantically.

The other Nord laughed coldly, "Where do you think?"

He finished with a serious expression.

"To our deaths."

"This is.. our fate" whispered the Dark Elf woman, with her heavy accent.

The three other men looked at her curiously.

There was an odd silence that followed.

The man driving the carriage yelled something to a man on the bridge above them.

Something about ... getting it over with.

The Dark Elf woman hung her head sorrowfully, her long, black hair covering her face like a curtain.

"So where are you from?" asked the blonde Nord.

"Why do you care?" hissed the other Nord.

They stared at each other for a moment before the blonde one replied, "A Nord's last thoughts... should always be about home."

The dark haired man contemplated for a moment, as though he was unsure if he wished to speak of his homeland.

"Rorikstead. I'm from ... Rorikstead."

The Dark Elf looked up at him before speaking.

"Rorikstead is a beautiful place. I read about it.. When I was in Morrowind."

The man nodded off before another silence consumed them.

"Ahh.. Helgen. I was sweet on a girl from here.. I wonder.. if she's.. still here."

The other passengers looked at the blonde Nord as he grinned into the distance.

The other Nord from Rorikstead began to pray.

The Dark Elf woman glanced at their surroundings.

Small buildings. Not much. Wooden.

A young boy was sitting on the porch with his mother and father.

"You need to go inside" his father commanded.

The rebellious boy replied, "Why? I wanna watch the soldiers!"

His father angrily replied, "Get inside, now!"

The family was soon out of sight, but the Dark Elf woman could her the boy's mumbled, "Yessir."

The carriage stopped a little while later.

"W-why are we stopping?" asked the Nord from Rorikstead.

The blonde Nord replied solemnly, "Why do you think? End of the road.."  
>Slowly, and painfully, the passengers stepped out of the carriages into small groups.<p>

There were Imperial legions.. everywhere.

"When I call your name.. come forward. Understand?" asked a tall, handsome Imperial.

The first name he called was Ulfric Stormcloak.

The blonde Nord beside the Dark Elf woman mumbled, "It was an honor, your majesty."

The rebel leader was led to the left, where the young woman could see a few other prisoners.

"Ralof from Riverwood."

The blonde Nord walked away solemnly, leaving the Dark Elf woman to pray silently.

The guard grumbled a name the Dunmer couldn't hear, but it was apparently the other Nord on her carriage.

"You don't understand! I'm _with _you!" He pleaded.

Suddenly, he began to run, yelling, "You'll never take me down!"

A Legion woman, someone of high authority, shouted a command, "Archers!"

The Dunmer woman closed her eyes, but the image was stuck in her mind.

The Nord had an arrow painfully shot through his breast, causing his to fall to the ground on his bearded face.

"Anyone else feel like running?" asked the Legion woman angrily, attempting to provoke the rest of the prisoners.

When no one responded, the other Imperial with a sheet of parchment called, "You! Step forward."

The Dark Elf woman took a few long steps towards him.

"Who.. are you?" He asked slowly.

The Dunmer held her head high, "I am Vendethiel from Morrowind. Vivec, Morrowind."

The soldier looked at her sadly, "You poor elf.. We'll be sure to.. ship your remains back to your homeland."

The young lady thanked him silently before being shoved in the direction of her death.

It was a pathetic excuse for a chopping board.

A slab of stone with a basket in front of it.

A guard began to speak, mocking the rebel leader.

"Ulfric Stormcloak. Some here in Helgen call you a hero. But a hero doesn't use a power like the Voice to murder his king and usurp his throne."

The Nord grunted in reply.

"You start this war," he continued, "plunged Skyrim into chaos and now the Empire is going to put you down and restore peace."

Then something odd happened.

A demonic cry, from very far away, echoed across the land.

Vendethiel looked up to the skies, confused.

A guard asked nervously, "What was that?"

The other guard who had went on a pointless rant replied, "It's nothing. Carry on."

The female Imperial Captain said, "Yes, General Tulius."

The Dunmer maiden smirked under her curtain of hair.

General Tulius.. Yes.. She would remember the name.

The Imperial Captain turned to a priestess and commanded, "Give them their last rites."

The woman lifted her hands to the prisoners, as if praying over them.

"As we commend your souls to Aetherius, blessing of the Eight Divines upon you, for you are the salt and earth of Nirn, our beloved-"

A Nord interrupted quickly, saying, "For the love of Talos, shut up and let's get this over with!"

He walked to where he would be executed with a proud and haughty expression.

The Imperial Captain, a little grumpily, replied, "As you wish."

She turned to him and hesitated.

A few birds chirped.

"Come on! I haven't got all morning!" The Nord said loudly.

She pushed him slowly to his knees.

"My ancestors are smiling at me, Imperials! Can you say the same?" He asked angrily.

The Captain pushed him down to the slab of stone with her foot.

The Executioner took his weapon in hand and lifted it slowly in the air.

Vendethiel wanted to turn away, but by the time her eyes closed, she had already seen it.

Heard it.

The _thunk _of the axe hitting the wood.

The _squirt _of the Nord's blood spraying.

The small _thud _of his head falling into the basket.

When his headless body fell to the side, a woman, a Stormcloak soldier cursed them loudly.

Another man cried out, "Justice!"

"Death to the Stormcloaks!"

Ralof, the blonde Nord, commented quietly, "As fearless in death.. as he was in life."

Vendethiel closed her eyes and prayed.

"Next. The Dark Elf."

Her heart shattered. Her hopes were crushed.

Another demonic cry occurred and her eyes turned to the sky for any signs.. of anything.

Any sign.. of hope.

"There it is again.. Did you hear that?" asked a soldier.

"I said," The Imperial Captain snapped, "next prisoner!"

"To the block, prisoner," said the soldier.

When he realized it was the beautiful Dunmer, he added, "Nice and easy."

Vendethiel prayed silently before walking to the slab of bloodied stone.

_Azura*.. I beg for your mercy, _She thought hopelessly.

When she stood in front of it, she saw the Imperial who had promised her a proper burial.

His expression... was solemn.

No sooner, she was pushed down to the bloody stone, getting a good view of the Nord's head as she collapsed onto it.

She could feel the sticky blood being absorbed into her beautiful ink black locks.

Her view now only consisted of the executioner, getting a comfortable grip on his weapon.

Not a second later, did she see something.

A dark something.

A dragon.

"What in Oblivion is that?" asked the soldier in front of her.

Its cry was loud and its body was ... amazing.

It was black as night with sharp wings.

It was flying to the building behind the executioner, who was beginning to rise his axe.

What would kill her first? The dragon? Or the executioner?

"Sentries! What do you see?" asked the Imperial Captain.

"It's in the clouds!" cried a soldier.

But it was too late.

The creature landed roughly on top of the building and the executioner stumbled away.

So... the dragon would kill her first.

The majestic beast looked her in the eye.

They had the same eyes.

Black as night.

"Dragon!" a soldier yelled.

The executioner stood back up and raised his axe at the black beast.

Vendethiel panicked.

Why couldn't she stand? Why couldn't she stand and run?

Then, the dragon roared.

Its cry hit Vendethiel like a blast of power, which what it probably was.

It sounded like a crack of thunder.

The Dunmer's eyes burnt and when a few soldiers began to go towards the dragon, it roared again, and she shook tremendously.

She stood shakily, but her vision was blurred.

It was all going dark, and she was about to lay her head miserably onto the bloody stone slab, but someone was calling her.. Someone .. was giving her hope.

She looked up and noticed Ralof, who was crying her name.

"Vendethiel! Dark elf, get up! Come on, the gods won't give us another chance!" He cried.

Realizing her opportunity, she stumbled after him, only after tossing a look behind her to see that the dragon was no longer resting on top of the building.

There were pieces of buildings and flames falling from the sky.. The dragon was destroying Helgen.

"Let's go!" Ralof cried.

Vendethiel followed him blindly, watching in awe the destruction the black creature was creating.

When he entered the Keep and she attempted to follow after him, a stone aflame hit the steps to the door and a few shards flew towards her.

She yelled in horror and ran past them, bumping into Ralof as she entered the Keep.

He grinned at her reassuringly and closed the door behind her.

When she realized who she was in the Keep with, she gasped.

The rebel leader was standing right beside her with a solemn and hopeless expression.

A young woman was lying on the ground, grasping a wound in her side and two Nords were squatting on the ground, one injured and one healing.

"Jarl Ulfric! What is that thing? Could the legends be true?" Ralof asked.

Vendethiel's eyes filled with horror when the murderer replied.

"Legends don't burn down villages."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hey there, suckahs! Haha... Ha.. Ahem. **

**I got so many favorites and stuff! It made me so happy! I love all of ya'll and here are a lot of shout outs! To ya'll!**

**Thanks to.. **

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**Man! That's a lot of folks! Thanks so much for faving and alerting and all that jazz! I love you all. All of you. Even you. Yes. You. Stop. Drop. And Roll. 'Cause I love you.**

**Disclaimer: In a way I own Skyrim? Maybe? I mean, I own a disk with the game called Skyrim, but well, yeah. **

**I don't own it. Sorry.**

**Anyway! Enjoy this chapter!**

* * *

><p>The shaking of the ground caused Vendethiel to stumble.<p>

She regained her ground shakily, the act being hard because of her tied hands.

The dragon outside roared loudly and Ralof stared at the door as though the beast was sitting outside of it, waiting patiently for him to exit.

Was it?

The lovely Dunmer peered out of a crack in the wall to see flames and bodies.

In the back of her mind, she wondered if that little boy she had seen earlier was amongst them.

The booming voice of Jarl Ulfric (she still despised him; no matter how strong his voice was) caused her to turn away from the crevice.

"We need to move!" He commanded. His expression was stern.

The face of a leader.

When Vendethiel didn't move immediately, he added, "Now! Up to the tower! Let's go!"

She stumbled up the stairs (clumsy thing she was. In life and in death) with the rebel leader and Ralof behind her, giving her no choice but to keep moving.

The stone stairs were damp and the small torches weren't very much, but it was enough.

She had made it halfway when she saw the Stormcloak. He looked injured.

He was kneeling, grabbing his side and he reached out towards her with his spidery hand.

Ralof, who was now close behind her, said something at the same time as the soldier and suddenly, they were thrown backwards.

The side of the Keep was thrown in and the stubble, no, boulders completely crushed the injured soldier; his remains scattered with blood and guts.

The young Dark Elf stared at where he had once kneeled in horror and when she looked at the hole in the wall, her heart stopped.

* * *

><p>There it was. In all its unholy, evil beauty.<p>

She had never seen a dragon so close.

_Tha-thump._

It stuck its head inside of the tower (not all of it. He was much too large) and Vendethiel suddenly backed up more than necessary, coming uncomfortably close to Ralof.

The dark, scaly beast opened its mouth and the Keep was suddenly uncomfortably hot with its flames.

_Tha-thump. _

It wasn't like she had heard in the old stories her mother used to tell her.

Its flames didn't simply burst forth from the beast's mouth, but it seemed to be a roar of power surging from the monster's throat.

She glanced away from it and looked at the boulders that had crushed the soldier, trying to tell what was he and what was meat.

_Tha-thump. Tha-thump. _

Her heart had started beating again, but when she looked back at the hole in the wall, the dragon was no longer there.

She stepped towards the edge timidly, but almost jumped out of it when she felt Ralof's warm Nord hand on her shoulder.

The dragon screamed again and she could just barely hear the blonde man speak.

"You see the inn on the other side? Jump through the roof and keep going! Go! We'll follow in the shadows!"

Vendethiel nervously looked at the severely damaged inn and took a deep breath.

She needed to do this to live.. She needed to live. That was her hope now.

She took a step back from the edge and ran off of it.

* * *

><p>She landed in the inn and her knees buckled, causing her to crumple on to the ground.<p>

Her breathing was harsh and her heart was beating even faster than before.

_I must escape.. I must!_

The Dunmer sat up and looked around at her surroundings.

There was a bed, and a toppled over bookshelf and everything was charred from the dragon's angry fire.

She crawled past all the black furniture until she saw that there was a hole in the ground.

She lowered herself down and winced (almost screaming) when her injured foot touched the firm wooden ground.

She released the wooden planks above her and took a few deep breaths before running out of the inn and looking around.

* * *

><p>The first thing she saw was a group of people. Three, to be exact.<p>

And one of them was the little boy.

She was so glad that she smiled a small smile, but it didn't last longer.

His mother was no longer with him and the man beside him was not his father.

The boy's face was tear-stained.

The Dark Elf ran over to them quickly, but fell onto her back when she saw what was ahead of them.

* * *

><p>The black beast had landed no more than ten feet away from the group and roared dangerously, yelling (breathing just didn't quite explain the process) out its scarlet flames.<p>

An Imperial (did she recognize him? Not quite) grabbed her forearm and pulled her away from its aim and barked, "Everyone get back!"

When they were 'safely' behind a house that was falling a part, the Imperial snorted, getting a better look at Vendethiel.

"Still alive, prisoner?"

She nodded, a stubborn and proud look on her blue-gray face.

"Keep close to me if you want to stay that way!"

The Dunmer immediately ran to his side, but not too close (he had a silver sword waving around inappropriately).

The Imperial man snorted again (how disgusting) before looking at the Nord that was kneeling silently beside the small crying child.

"Gouner! Take care of the boy! I have to find General Tulius and join their defense!" he barked out orders professionally and glanced at Vendethiel when the Nord replied.

"Gods guide you."

They barely ran five feet before the dragon's shadow was looming over them.

The jumped off of the deck (or at least, what used to be a deck) of a destroyed house and the Dunmer stood idly by the house before being yelled at.

"Stay close to the wall!" The Imperial screamed (she hadn't quite caught his name. She would learn later before they died) and she pressed as close to the cold stone as possible.

The black beast landed atop of the wall and the shadow of its scaly, ink colored wing protected the two beings as its fire was yelled out of the dragon (it was such a silly theory, she knew. It just seemed 'right' for some reason).

What was even stranger was how the Dunmer felt.. Safe behind the beast's wing.

Perhaps the familiar color is what lulled her into a peaceful state, which was broken when her Imperial companion grabbed her forearm and dragged her away, the safety of the wing gone, along with the beast it belonged to.

* * *

><p>They climbed up some stairs and through the remains of someone's house (it was better this way. If it had been nice and new and filled with people, the two beings may have walked into someone changing clothes. How embarrassing) and out into an open space where mages and archers were furiously and vigorously fighting the black demon.<p>

Vendethiel wanted to laugh at them.

They couldn't kill a dragon.

Why not, she didn't know, but she simply knew. You know?

They passed the 'defense squad' and the Dunmer gagged when she was forced to step over an almost dead body.

The Imperial was looking up at her from the ground with lifeless eyes.

Hopeless eyes.

"It's you and me, prisoner!" The Imperial soldier who was leading her said.

"I have a name!" She hissed.

The soldier looked at her over his shoulder, as if asking for it, but she was looking over it as well and saw a familiar face.

Ralof.

He had lived! She had had a feeling he would.

The blonde Nord didn't seem to want to die.

The Imperial man seemed to notice him, too and recognized him as well.

"Ralof! You damn traitor!"

Vendethiel hated cursing, so she clenched her eyes closed for a moment before looking back up at the blonde Nord.

"Outta my way!" The Imperial growled.

Ralof took it calmly and stated, "We're escaping, Hadvor! You're not stopping us this time."

Vendethiel looked back and forth between the men before asking in her heavy accent, "How..?"

They didn't reply.

A soldier scurried past in the awkward silence mumbling, "How do we kill this thing?"

Hadvor (apparently that was his name now) spat at the ground near Ralof's feet, "Fine! I hope that dragon takes you all to Sovengarde!"

The two suddenly bolted in two different directions and the Dunmer woman stood idly between the two, confused and dazed.

"Come with me!" Ralof called.

"Follow me, prisoner!" Hadvor yelled.

His voice was louder.

But fiercer.

Vendethiel ran towards Ralof and bumped into him (a habit now, she supposed).

The dragon screamed (he was close now, she could almost smell his burnt breath) and she was shoved inside with the blonde Nord close behind her.

* * *

><p>When they entered, the noise outside seemed to decrease.<p>

Vendethiel took a few very deep breaths and followed Ralof as he strolled to where a body lay with the armor of a Stormcloak.

He knelt down beside the body and sighed, "We'll meet again in Sovengarde, brother."

The Dunmer shuffled her sheet awkwardly.

She did not believe in Sovengarde.

After taking a few short, calm breaths, the blonde Nord looked up at her with a sad look.

"Looks like we're the only ones who made it."

_Of course we are. _

"Yes.." Vendethiel mumbled in reply.

"That thing (he could only mean the black beast most likely looming over the Helgen Keep right now) was a dragon. No doubt. Just like the children's stories and the legends. The harbingers of the End Times" Ralof trailed off, his eyes leaving the pretty girl and looking up at the ceiling.

It still smelled like death.

"We better get moving," He said, panting (probably from the scent), "Come here. Let me see if I can get those bindings off."

The Dark Elf took a step closer to the man and he took out a knife she hadn't seen before.

With one quick swipe the bindings were off and she was rubbing her wrists and clenching her fists to test her strength.

"There you go.. You may as well take Gunjar's gear... He... won't be needing it any more" Ralof said, his voice thin and tight.

Vendethiel, presuming Gunjar was the dead man, looted his body quickly, taking his armor, his weapon, and what little gold he had.

Ralof had turned around and she guessed that he was waiting for her to put on the armor.

Taking the hint, she put the uncomfortable chain mail on and swung the iron war axe she had looted around a few times before noticing her blonde friend had turned around.

He gave her a reassuring grin before walking to a nearby door with bars.

When he attempted to open it, he groaned, "This one's locked."

Vendethiel strolled over to the next gate and gave one of its bars a tug.

Nothing.

"This one is locked as well... There's no way to open it from our side" She analyzed.

Ralof cursed under his breath and tugged on the gate as well.

His Dunmer partner knelt down and studied the lock before looking past the door and gasping.

The Imperials were coming.

* * *

><p>She didn't have to tell Ralof. He was already ducked and had his axe ready.<p>

When she was numb and wouldn't move, the Nord shoved her out of the doorway to keep from being seen.

"Come on! Keep moving!" It was the female Imperial Captain.

The footsteps drew closer and Vendethiel shakily pulled out her iron war axe (seeing as to how the original owner was dead, it was now hers).

"Get this gate open."

_Tha-thump. Tha-thump. Tha-thump. _

There was a satisfying _chunk_of a lever being pulled and the tall gate began to lower itself.

_Now or never._

When the gate had completely lowered and the Imperials were starting to shuffle in, Vendethiel stood up and swung her axe at the first person she saw.

The Imperial Captain.

It collided with the woman's helmet and there was an echoing _thunk_throughout the Keep.

The Captain collapsed, dazed and confused, and the other man with her looked at the elf woman with a shocked expression.

Quickly, it turned angry and he swung at her with a long, slim sword.

She dove out of the way and covered her head with her arms, letting Ralof be the one to kill the man.

When a hand was pressed on her shoulder, she turned quickly and smiled a small smile up at Ralof.

He sheathed his axe (which was drenched in crimson) and nudged the Imperial Captain with his boot.

"She's not dead. We can leave her here" Vendethiel offered.

The blonde Nord nodded along and the Dunmer sheathed her own weapon, taking the other Imperial's sword.

She had always been good with a sword. Her parents had told her that all the time.

"Maybe one of them has the key to that gate over there" Ralof mumbled, searching the pockets of the Imperial Captain.

When he pulled a key out of one of the strange pockets, he ran immediately over to the gate and unlocked it.

"That's it! Come on, let's get out of here before the dragon bring the whole tower down on our heads" Ralof said, running ahead of the elf lady.

She nodded numbly.

She just wanted freedom.

She just wanted to go home.

* * *

><p>They ran down a long stone stairway (which Vendethiel almost slipped down) until they reached a long path.<p>

Across from them, the Dunmer girl could see five shadows.

People!

As she ran towards them, she heard a sudden rumbling and ignored it until she was yanked backwards by her hair and the roof above her collapsed, almost squashing her foot.

She took a few heavy breaths before thanking Ralof silently.

Ralof examined the rubble as well and sighed, cursing.

"That dragon doesn't give up easy."

Then, a voice that was most definitely not Ralof barked out an order, "Grab everything important and let's move! The dragons burning everything to the ground!"

The two listening beings opened the door they had seen silently and snuck inside.

A smaller voice had replied, "I just need to gather some more potions!"

It was two soldiers, Vendethiel guessed.

They were abandoning their positions up on land to save themselves. Selfish.

Then again.

She looked up at the dripping ceiling.

She was doing the same thing in a way.

* * *

><p>Ralof charged at the two soldiers (the Dunmer guessed correctly for once) with an angry battle cry.<p>

"Death to the Empire!"

Vendethiel unsheathed her sword and swung at the first Imperial she saw.

He blocked successfully, but when he swung at her she dodged and stabbed him in the stomach, pulling her sword out with a sickening slurp.

Ralof had already finished off the other man (his fighting skills surprised her) and sheathed his weapons (since when had he picked up an axe?).

"It's a storeroom," he observed, "See if you can find any potions. We'll need them."

The Dunmer nodded and searched all the barrels she saw, taking all the potions in sight.

Some weren't very useful, like potions of Magicka, but she took them anyway.

She never knew when she might need one.

After raiding the Imperial's supplies (which made her grin) she ran to Ralof's side.

"Done?"

She nodded.

"Let's get moving."

* * *

><p>They barely got down three flights of stone stairs before there was more killing to be done.<p>

They had found a torture room, which honesty didn't surprise Vendethiel, but shocked the color out of Ralof.

They killed all the Imperials ( and their torturer friend),looted their bodies, and spoke with a very beautiful Stormcloak woman.

She was injured, but acting perfectly fine.

"Was Jarl Ulfric with you?" Ralof asked her, sheathing his mace.

"No," The woman said solemnly, "I haven't seen him since the dragon showed up."

They paused a moment to stare at each other awkwardly before Ralof suddenly glanced at one of the torture cages.

"Wait a second! Looks like there's something in that one."

The Dark Elf, snooping around (taking lock picks, coin sacks and books) looked up at where he was pointing.

She stalked over to the cage, disgusted by the scent of rotten flesh, and attempted to pick the lock.

When she did get it open, Ralof looked over the contents then ran off to the next hallway with grass growing persistently around the stone floor.

"Take what you need and let's go."

She picked up all the gold lying on the ground, the potion, the book, and the man's gold, potions and clothes.

It was embarrassing, removing his robes, but she simply ignored the heat rising to her cheeks and folded the items into her rucksack (she had found it on an Imperial and decided she fancied the bag).

* * *

><p>They walked in silence, respectfully.<p>

It was a bad time to ask about the weather.

They walked for quite a bit until they reached a manmade hole in the stonewall.

Ralof politely let her go first (Nords. Pff) and she stepped through it slowly, making sure she didn't slip and fall.

They were all three walking down in a cave now.

Vaguely, Vendethiel remembered rumors about random underground tunnels.

She had told whoever had told her that it was just pish posh.

Now she just felt stupid.

* * *

><p>They walked a little while on until Ralof ordered the two others to keep quiet.<p>

"Orders are to wait until General Tulius arrives."

Vendethiel murmured a curse.

The man still lived.

"I'm not waiting to be killed by a dragon!" Another voice commented.

It was then that the three Stormcloaks (The Dunmer guessed that she was one of them, now) and began their attack.

There was someone with a bow (maybe two of them) and it took all her stamina to dodge his or her arrows, and also attack the soldier in front of her.

She stabbed him in the heart (still not enjoying the gurgling sound the hole made) then charged at the two archers.

When she suddenly slipped and fell on her butt (quite embarrassing), she glared down at the red liquid on the ground.

Then an arrow hit dangerously close to her hand and she squealed.

Out of her palm, with a quick spell under her breath, flames burst forth and Vendethiel had to crawl backwards away from them.

The fire caught on the red liquid and there was a sudden explosion mixed with the screams of the archers trapped inside.

When it died down and Ralof and his girlfriend (or at least, that's what it looked like) approached her, she stood up and brushed herself off, sheathing her bloody sword and motioning towards the exit.

The blonde woman shook her head and sheathed her weapon as well, "I'll keep watch in case Ulfric comes through here. Talos guide the both of you."

Ralof and Vendethiel nodded to her and went ahead, almost completely aware they would never see the woman again.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hey there! This chapter is really long! 14 pages on Word! Haha! **

**Anyway, thanks to all who reviewed and alerted and all that! Don't worry! I'm giving out hugs again! Haha X)!**

**Thanks to... **

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**Disclaimer - I don't own Skyrim. If I did, I'd make Lucien Lachance live and be a bachelor! Lol!**

* * *

><p>"Well.. Let's see where this goes."<p>

Vendethiel scrunched her nose. That didn't sound like he knew where they were going.  
>It wasn't like she didn't have a choice to keep going.. She could stop and turn around..<p>

But she wouldn't.

Something deep in her stomach (not her heart for some odd reason) told her to keep going and not turn back.

She stopped walking when she saw a wall in front of them. Wood.

"A dead end?" She wondered. It couldn't be.

There was a cough from behind her and she spun around, watching (while feeling stupid) as Ralof pulled a switch.

_Ka-thunk._

She turned around and saw that the wall had fallen down and become a bridge.

Without looking at her companion's expression (which was probably amused and smug) she crossed the bridge quickly.

* * *

><p>She stepped down some stone steps before stopping and looking around. They were really underground now. All around her were walls of rock and dirt. There was a small river formed by an even smaller waterfall that made her smile slightly.<p>

Then she frowned.

She heard a roar from the dragon and the ground shook.

There was a large crash from behind her and she spun around.

Rocks.

"No going back that way now" Ralof said with a shake of his head.

He turned back and stared longingly at the rocks.  
>He must be thinking of his friends.<br>"We must push on (was he talking to her or himself?). The rest of them will have to find another way out" He said and turned away from the blocked path.

Vendethiel nodded and ran down the stairs before turning towards the blonde Nord.

"Lead the way, friend."

* * *

><p>They followed the small river.<p>

It was uncomfortably wet and the air was moist, but it was a good strategy.

Water always had to lead somewhere.

Vendethiel paused momentarily when they reached the end of its trail.

Just kidding?

"Hmm. That doesn't go anywhere," Ralof observed (thank you, Sir Obvious).

He turned and saw a perfect path to their right, "Guess we'd better go this way."

They only walked a little while before they were attacked.

By spiders.

Nasty creatures.

She didn't... _fear_ them.. She simply... _hated_ them.

Frostbite spiders were her least favorite.

With icy fangs (furry fangs! FUR!) that were always drenched in poison (gooey, green poison! Ugh!) and a human's blood.

Ughh.

She sliced one across its abdomen and cast her flame spell, immediately destroying one of the monsters.

Ralof gagged.

"Hate those damned things. Too many eyes, you know?"

Vendethiel nodded in agreement.

Their eggs sacs were hanging from the ceiling and the Dark Elf rushed out of the area using the next pathway.

When she saw the small river again (she assumed it was the same) she began to follow its trail. She crossed a small rock bridge before stopping at a cart (who leaves a cart underground?). She looked away from it, about to follow the trail again before being pulled back by Ralof.

Trusting his judgment (he saved her, didn't he?), she ducked down and looked up at him with black, alert eyes.

"Hold up!" He whispered, "There's a bear just ahead! See her?"

Vendethiel squinted her eyes in the darkness before noticing a lump of black fur just thirty feet ahead of them.

She replied in a hushed tone, "I see her."

The bear shifted in her sleep and the two observing beings stiffened.

"I'd rather not tangle with her right now," Ralof whispered, "Let's try to sneak by. Just take it nice and slow and watch where you step."

* * *

><p>When Vendethiel had been a little girl, no more than three or four, she had always tried to play hide and seek with her dog. No matter how many times she tried to tiptoe across the hallway of their manor without a sound, he'd always catch her.<p>

This was not a dog.

The Dark Elf nervously glanced at Ralof.

"If you're feeling lucky, you can take this bow. Might take her by surprise."

The young lady scrunched her nose and expected the bow, running her pale blue hand over it to gain familiarity. She was good with bows. Not precise, not perfect. Just good.

She anxiously looked up to stare at the bear that had decided to stand up and curl into a more comfortable position.

"Let's try and sneak by," Vendethiel whispered, "If she notices us, I'll shoot her."

The blonde Nord's eyes sparkled in admiration, "Go ahead. I'll follow your lead and watch your back."

Having no objections, the two crouched and slowly began to inch their way towards the majestic beast.

The fearful Elf crossed another bridge made of ground and kept her eyes on the bear.

She was sleeping peacefully, almost looking like a toy.

But Vendethiel knew better.

Keeping her black eyes on the beast, she kept close to the water as she tiptoed across the ground.

Slipping on a wet rock and plunging her foot into the small stream, she looked up at the bear with a scared expression.

She had stood up, now looking and sniffing in the Dark Elf's direction, but after a few moments of awkward and anxious silence, she tossed herself back down on the ground and started lightly snoring.

She looked at Ralof, who was close behind her, and nodded her head.

It was safe to keep moving.

* * *

><p>Vendethiel would've let out a sigh of relief if she wasn't so scared of the bear hearing and charging after her. They had passed the lovely beast successfully and were following another path, if that's what one would call it.<p>

From the ceiling, she saw some light peeking in and the warmth hit her skin, giving it a light glow.

"We're close now. I can feel it," She mumbled.

They carefully trudged down a hill and turned left before Ralof exclaimed, "That looks like the way out! I knew we'd make it!"

He wasn't lying either. Ahead of them was a wide hole in the cave with light and snow pouring out of it.

It was the way to freedom!

"I never thought I'd make it out of here alive" The Dark Elf lady sighed.

The blonde Nord grunted in agreement, exiting the cave first, in case of any dangers.

Vendethiel followed close behind him and squinted when the light of the outside world hit her face.

The first thing she noticed was a tree.

There weren't that many beautiful green trees in Morrowind.

Then the rumbling of the ground caused her to crouch and reach for her sword.

"Wait!" Ralof warned, running towards a rock and ducking behind it.

The young lady followed suite and barely registered the shadow of a dragon passing over them.

She looked up to the sky and gasped.

It was the black dragon! It flew over their heads and let out a mighty cry, flapping its wings and soaring away from the two.

The elf's heart stopped for a moment, and for some odd reason she too wanted to fly far away with that dragon.

Why?

"There he goes," Ralof said, standing up and stretching, "Looks like he's gone for good this time."

Vendethiel nodded numbly, "I suppose so."

The blonde Nord continued with a sad tone. "No way to know if anyone else made it out alive.. But this place is going to be swarming with Imperials soon enough. We'd better clear out of here."

His companion nodded and they started walking down the stone path, close, but not too close.

"My sister Gerdur runs the mill in Riverwood, just up the road. I'm sure she'd help you out," He stated.

Vendethiel looked up at him hopefully, "Really?"

The man nodded and then sighed, seeming to consider something.

"It's probably best if we split up."

The young lady nodded.

_No it wouldn't._

"Good luck.. I wouldn't have made it without your help today."

The young lady nodded again.

Before he ran ahead of her, he spoke softly, "You know, you should go to Windhelm and join the fight to free Skyrim. You've seen the true face of the Empire here today. If anyone will know what the coming of the dragon means, it's Ulfric."

The elf frowned, pondering this. She hated the man for what he did to Skyrim's High King.. But would she serve under him?

"Stormcloaks.. I'll consider it, friend."

The Nord grinned before jogging off, making the rest of her walk solemn and quiet.

* * *

><p>Riverwood was a small, quiet, and homely village.<p>

Surprisingly, Ralof was waiting for her at the gates.

How polite.

He smiled at her, "Looks like nobody here knows what's happened yet. Come on. Gerdur's probably working in her lumber mill."

The Dark Elf followed behind him, snorting when she heard an old woman proclaim to her son, "A dragon! I saw a dragon!"

Her son replied irritably, "What? What is it now, mother?"

The old woman snapped back, "It was as big as the mountain, and as black as night! It flew right over the borrow!"

_Borrow? _

"Dragons now, is it?" Her son replied maturely, "Please, mother. If you keep on like this, everyone in town will think you're crazy. And I've got better things to do than listen to more of your fantasies."

Ralof laughed softly at this as well, though the elf by his side didn't laugh as heartily and loudly as he.

The old woman seemed furious, but Vendethiel had almost lost track of her voice, "You'll see! It was a dragon! It'll kill us all and then you'll believe me!"

Their voices were lost over the rushing of the water as Ralof led his elf companion over a wooden bridge that for some reason didn't look quite as stable as Vendethiel had hoped.

It creaked when they made it to the other side, and the blonde Nord stopped walking and stared at a beautiful blonde woman who was sharpening a blade.

"Gerdur!" He exclaimed happily.

The woman looked up (she was so beautiful that Vendethiel hung her head) and tears sprang to her eyes.

She rushed to him (ignoring what ever project she had been working on) and embraced him, despite his armor jutting into her stomach and chest.  
>"Brother! Mara's mercy, it's good to see you!"<p>

"Gerdur.." Ralof mumbled into her hair.

Vendethiel awkwardly shuffled her feet, kicking up some dirt.

"But is it safe for you to be here? We heard that Ulfric had been captured..." Gerdur pulled away from her brother, but kept her hands affectionately on his shoulders.

The man said with a happy, exasperated tone, "Gerdur, I'm fine. At least now I am."

Hearing his tone, she scanned him with her gorgeous eyes, "Are you hurt? What's happened?"

Vendethiel coughed lightly and the Nord looked her over, "And who's this? One of your comrades?"

Her suggestive tone caused the elf to cough some more.

Her brother smiled at her reassuringly, "Not a comrade yet, but a friend. I owe her my life, in fact."

His voice suddenly turned serious and he asked, "Is there somewhere we can talk? There's no telling when the news from Helgen will reach the Imperials."

Confused, Gerdur arched her brows, "Helgen? Has something happened...?"

When none of the two other beings answered, she sighed, "You're right. Follow me."

She turned and called out to a man, whom Vendethiel presumed was her husband.  
>"Hod! Come here a minute. I need your help with something."<p>

A man's voice replied, "What is it, woman? Drunk on the job again?"

_Maybe not her husband. _

Irritably, she added, "Hod. Just come here."

She led the elf and her brother astray from the mill and towards some tree trunks, one of which Ralof sat down on.

Gerdur's friend gaped when he saw her companion, "Ralof? What are you doing here? Ha.. I'll be right down!"

Only moments later did a child coming running over with a dog at his heels.

"Uncle Ralof! Can I see your axe? How many Imperials have you killed? Do you really know Ulfric Stormcloak?" The child bombarded the blonde Nord with questions and Vendethiel let a small smile grace her lips.

The dog behind him barked enthusiastically and Gerdur said exasperatedly, "Hush, Frodnar. This is no time for your games. Go and watch the south road. Come find us if you see any Imperial soldiers coming."

The blonde boy's eyes filled with disappointment.  
>"Aw, mama, I want to stay and talk with Uncle Ralof!"<p>

Vendethiel couldn't help but let her black eyes scan Gerdur.

She had given birth? She seemed so young.

Before the beautiful blonde could scold the boy, Ralof knelt down and put his hands on the his shoulders.

"Look at you, almost a grown man! (far from it, actually)! Won't be long before you'll be joining the fight yourself."

The boy turned around and said over his shoulder (which the blonde man had released), "That's right! Don't worry, Uncle Ralof; I won't let those soldiers sneak up on you!"

And with that, the child ran off, his dog close behind him, barking happily.

At this moment, Gerdur's... friend appeared.

He was dirty and sweaty from work, but was still able to put on a happy, shocked face.

"Now, Ralof, what's going on? You two look pretty well done in."

The blonde man looked at Vendethiel, who had black circles under her eyes, and sighed.

"I can't remember when I last slept."

_I can. It was on that wagon. _

And so, the explaining began.

* * *

><p>When Ralof began to explain the dragon attack, Vendethiel looked up at the sky.<p>

For some reason, she wanted the beast to swoop down and roar majestically.  
>But that would be impossible.<p>

Her heart was probably more twisted than a murderer's to want a dragon to appear.

"Nonsense (the elf rejoined the conversation at this point). You and your friend are welcome to stay here as long as you need to. Let _me_ worry about the Imperials."

Gerdur turned and faced the Dark Elf and said softly, "Any friend of Ralof's is a friend of mine."

The young lady meekly smiled and hung her head a bit so her ink black hair would cover some of her face.

The beautiful blonde rested a hand on the elf's shoulder and took her hands, placing cold metal in her palm.

"Here's the key to the house. Stay as long as you like. If there's anything else you need, just let me know."

Vendethiel was given food, some potions, some lockpicks and a map to store in her knapsack, but would not take them without charge.

"What can I do to help you? I cannot take all of this without doing you all a favor" Her accent was deep, but her words came across as clear.

"There is something you could for me.. For all of us here," Gerdur said, "The Jarl needs to know if there's a dragon on the loose. Riverwood is defenseless... We need to get word to Jarl Balgruuf in Whiterun to send whatever troops he can. If you'll do that for me, I'll be in your debt."

Vendethiel nodded, "I will go as soon as possible."

The woman smiled (so beautiful. The Dark Elf felt hideous) and Ralof thanked her softly.

"Thanks, sister.. I knew we could count on you."

"I ought to get back to work before I'm missed (by who?), but... did anyone else escape? Did Ulfric.."

Gerdur left the question unfinished.

Her brother stood up from the tree stump and rested a hand on her shoulder, "Don't worry. I'm sure he made it out. It'll take more than a dragon to stop Ulfric Stormcloak."

There was a nice silence before Hod coughed lightly, "I'll let them into the house and, you know, show them where everything is..."

Gerdur crossed her arms and rolled her beautiful eyes, "Hmph. Help them drink up our mead, you mean."

Vendethiel lifted her head and frowned.

She didn't drink.

The blonde woman gave her brother a final hug before saying softly, "Good luck, brother. I'll see you later."

Her worried tone made Ralof grin, "Don't worry about me. I know how to lay low."

Gerdur swatted him with her hand before walking away with a constant sway of her hips.

After a few moments, Ralof and Hod walked away as well, towards the direction of mead, Vendethiel presumed.

The Dark Elf, then being alone, sat down near the stream nearby and prayed.

* * *

><p>Her hands were clasped together and her eyes shut gently.<p>

The sun was just beginning to set.

She hadn't eaten anything.

She was thirsty.

She was tired.

She opened her night colored eyes when she heard footsteps coming towards her and didn't have to guess who it was.

There was a light thud behind her and a gentle tug on her midnight black hair.  
>"Do you mind if I braid it? It's beautiful" Gerdur said softly.<p>

Her voice calmed the Dark Elf lady somewhat.

It almost sounded like her mother's.

"I don't mind."

The two sat in silence, one braiding while humming a happy tune and one staring calmly at the stream that was sparkling with the evening sun.

"So, where are you from?" Gerdur asked.

Vendethiel had to think about it for a moment.

"Vivec, Morrowind... The largest city in Vvardenfell..."

The blonde Nord behind her 'hmm'ed in either agreement of acknowledgment.

There was a peaceful silence as Gerdur finished the braid and tied it with a tear of her own dress (she had plenty more at home).

Two long strands of hair cupped the elf's face and the Nord couldn't help but think she was pretty.

Then her stomach growled and Vendethiel blushed, which was an odd look on a Dark Elf.

Gerdur stood up and offered her hand to the young lady.

"You haven't left this one spot all day. Come inside and eat something, hmm?"

Vendethiel took the woman's hand, which was warm, and stood up.

"I.. guess I'll do that."

* * *

><p>The only light was a fluttering lantern in the corner of the room.<p>

The Dark Elf curled up on the bedroll looked younger than thirteen.

Her hair had come out of the lovely braid and was spread out across her face and blanket.

Her body rose up and down with each soft breath she took.

Gerdur tiptoed to where the small lantern was and blew it out.

She didn't want to wake the girl up.

Hod and Ralof were sitting and chatting loudly at the table, which earned them a death glare.

"You two imbeciles. She's sleeping."

_Damn. They have a lantern on._

Ralof immediately shut his mouth.

The beautiful woman smiled thankfully at him and sat beside him, pouring herself a small amount of mead.

There was a long silence.

"She's come a far way.. I wonder why she decided to come to Skyrim" Gerdur murmured.

Ralof took a sip from his tankard, "Immigration? Morrowind is a cold place."

Hod nodded in agreement, "And she's so young. Probably just around marriage age."

Gerdur raised a brow, "I think she may be a little younger, if not just that."

There was rustling from across the room and the three Nords all looked over in anxiety.

The young lady's face was contorted in an expression of fear and pain.  
>Gerdur strolled over to her and sat down, stroking the girl's hair until her expression was one of peace and calmness.<p>

And the night went on.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: NO I AM NOT DEAD! Just lazy. Very, very, very lazy. But I'm sick so I decided to take this time to update :) **

**Thanks to..**

**Elizabeth Carter - for alerting :)**

**Kage Kyuubi no Kitsune - for favorting :)**

**MidnightCarnival - for alerting :)**

* * *

><p><strong>Thank you for being patient with me :)<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>I DON'T OWN SKYRIM! If I did... Well... Hehehehe XD<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Please enjoy! <strong>

**Reviews are appreciated very much :') I love to read your feedback!**

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><p>The next morning, Vendethiel woke to an empty home with a dying fire.<p>

She sat up and tossed her hair over her shoulder before looking around her.

The Dark Elf felt out of place, so she stood quickly (she was still wearing her garb from Helgen) and stumbled to a table.

She timidly eyed some bread before snatching it and eating it quickly.

As she ate, she barely noticed the screech of the door.

"Ah, you're awake!"

The Dunmer swiftly turned around, alarmed.

Ralof stood calmly in front of her.

"Gerdur wanted me to come and make sure you're alright.. Why don't you come outside for a while?"

Vendethiel wiped the crumbs off her face before responding.

"I... I hope.. it's not a bother, but.. could I have a change of clothes? Armor perhaps?"

The blonde Nord stood dumbly for a moment before jolting and chuckling at himself.

"Oh, of course! I wouldn't want to stand around in those clothes either! I think Gerdur's got something around here somewhere.."

The Dunmer scampered to her bedroll, watching as her tall, lumbering friend stumbled to a small dresser.

He tossed through it for a moment until yanking out something and holding it out in front of him.

"This should do it.. You look right around Gerdur's height."

Ralof handed the Dark Elf the lump of clothing and walked towards the door.

"Come on out when you're done. My sister might need ya."

The wooden door slammed shut and Vendethiel glanced at the gift in her hands.

. . .

The fur armor was warm and concealed her body, but in all it was a size too big.

She stumbled out of her friend's home in her warm fur shoes and looked around like a doe.

A child sped past her and Vendethiel felt as though she could fall over.

When another passed her as well, she turned around and grabbed the handle of the door.

Perhaps it was best if she just stayed inside...

"Dark Elf! There you are!"

She spun around (her dark hair swirling around her in a wave of ink) and smiled softly when she saw Gerdur approaching with a basket in her hand, balancing it on her hip.

"Did you sleep well?"

Vendethiel nodded.

The blonde woman smiled and looked around her, before snapping her head back.

"I'm afraid you never said your name. Not even to Ralof, I believe."

The Dunmer blinked numbly for a moment before saying her name slowly.

"Vendethiel."

Gerdur grinned, "What a pretty name! V for Vivec, correct?"

The girl with the dark hair looked up, shocked.

"You.. ?"

The Nord shifted her weight, "I read a book when I was a small girl like you about Morrowind. It seemed like such a far away place, but now I'm talking to a Dark Elf from there this moment.. I'm not sure how I feel about it."

. . .

There was a nice silence (filled with the background noise of children laughing and dogs barking) and Vendethiel looked up at the brightly colored sky.

"Thank you.. For everything. I should... gather my things and head to Whiterun."

A bird chirped noisily and flew overhead.

Gerdur sighed, "I suppose if that's what you want to do.. You can. If you need anything else, do come back.. You hear me clearly?"

Vendethiel nodded before slipping back into her hosts' house and grabbing her knapsack.

The bag was not heavy at all and she was looking forward to filling it with riches.

The door creaked open and this time the Dark Elf tossed a glance over her shoulder to notice Ralof.

He looked sternly at her back as she adjusted her bag slowly.

"Well," She said, turning, "I suppose this is farewell."

The blonde Nord nodded and looked off into the distance.

"I'll... I'll come back for a visit or two."

He turned and stared at her.

"I-... I promise."

Ralof smiled, "Good luck, Dark Elf.. Or should I say, Vendethiel."

The Dunmer let a smile grace her lips and patted the man's shoulder as friendly as possible.

"Farewell, Ralof."

And she left.

* * *

><p>The ground was softer than before with her new armor and shoes and Vendethiel couldn't help but thank Azura for Gerdur.<p>

The sword she had picked up during her escape with Ralof was still with her, ready to take another life on her hip.

Her black hair swung behind her like silk and her grayish blue skin was glowing.

. . . . . .

The Dunmer only stopped once during her trip.

It was to splash her with water and she could see the stronghold of Whiterun in the distance.

Panic struck her and she realized that Riverwood could be in flames that instant.

She stood up and bolted towards the stony haven.

Vendethiel was panting by the time she finally reached the gate, having taken two or three small breaks to catch her breathe.

A guard with his face properly covered by a helmet took a step towards her and spoke.

"What business have you in Whiterun?"

The Dunmer panted out her answer.

"Ri-... Riverwood! I-.. I must speak with the Jarl!"

The guard, as stiff as stone, stared her down through the holes in his helmet.

"Riverwood? What's happened?"

Vendethiel growled, "Dragons! They-.. They might attack Riverwood! You must let me in! I must speak to the Jarl!"

The Nord (his accent gave it away) immediately opened the gate and sidestepped out of her way.

The Dunmer thanked him with a nod before bolting into Whiterun.

. . .

. . . .

. . . . . .

* * *

><p>Voices surrounded her as though she was in the heart of conversation.<p>

Her arrival threw some people off, but the Dark Elf ran past them.

She NEEDED to see the Jarl.

Gerdur and her husband and child could be dead right now..

Vendethiel stopped at a well and looked around in a flurry of confusion.

A child stared at her oddly and she yelled something to her.

"Where is the Jarl?"

The little girl stared at her owlishly and pointed in a random direction.

The Dunmer followed her finger and saw a large castle-like building high above the others.

"Thank you," She mumbled before beginning a mad dash to the stairs.

. . .

The young woman's nimble body was able to slip past all the guards without bumping into them roughly.

The stairs were jagged and rocky, but when she reached the wooden bridge to a large entrance to the Jarl, Vendethiel was relieved.

She dashed to it and shoved it with all her strength.

And it creaked open loudly.

The Dark Elf slipped into the building with such loud panting and screeching of the door, all eyes were on her.

Even the servants stopped to stare.

Attempting to ignore the heavy glares, Vendethiel stumbled up the wooden steps.

When she reached the top, she couldn't believe her eyes.

There he was! The Jarl of Whiterun!

The Dunmer almost busted into a sprint, but was stopped by a woman with bright red hair, her sword drawn threateningly.

"What's the meaning of this? Jarl Balgruuf is not excepting visitors at this time."

Vendethiel stood a bit taller under her judgmental gaze before replying, "I-... bring news from Helgen! About the dragon attack."

The redhead did not sheath her sword, "Well, I suppose that explains why the guards let you in. Come on then, the Jarl will speak with you personally."

She turned swiftly and sheathed her weapon.

Vendethiel followed closely behind her, staring at the Jarl a few feet away from her slowly come closer.

Eventually, she was standing on a step in front of him, staring at him blankly.

His blonde hair was braided and he was wearing the clothes of an important leader.

"So, you were at Helgen?" He asked.

The Dark Elf woman stood stiffly.

"You saw this.. dragon? With your own eyes?"

Vendethiel answered slowly, "I-.. Yes. It destroyed Helgen completely and last I saw, it was heading this way."

Jarl Balgruuf stared dumbly at her before frowning, "Hmm. I see. Irileth was right."

He turned his head to face a Breton with dark hair beside him.

"What do you say we do now, Proventus? Should we continue to trust in our walls? Against a dragon?"

Before the man could reply, the redheaded woman (Irileth, Vendethiel presumed) stepped up.

"My lord, we should send troops to Riverwood at once."

The Dunmer sighed in relief.

"It's in danger. That dragon may be lurking in the mountains this second."

The Breton (Proventus, she thought) coughed into his fist before speaking, "The Jarl of Falkreath will see that as a provocation! He'll presume we're preparing to join Ulfric and attack him."

Vendethiel scrunched her nose in disgust.

Jarl Ulfric.

Jarl Balgruuf shouted, "Enough! I shall not stand idly while a dragon burns my hold and slaughters my people!"

He turned to his redheaded soldier, "Irileth, send a detachment to Riverwood at once."

She bowed and said boldly, "Yes, my lord."

The Breton, who sounded offended by his lord's decision, bowed as well, "Please excuse me, I'll be returning to my duties."

The Jarl of Whiterun sighed, "That would be best."

He then turned to Vendethiel and smiled softly, "Well done. You sought me out on your own initiative. You've done Whiterun a service, and I won't forget it."

The Dark Elf smiled back, "It is no problem. I would not have allowed my friends in Riverwood to be murdered by the.. Dragon."

The blonde man shook his head before standing, "No, you must take this as a small token of my gratitude."

The young woman raised a brow as he took out a large suite of steel armor.

"There is another thing you could do for me." he said.

Vendethiel raised a brow, "And that is?"

Jarl Balgruuf nodded, "Come, let's go find Farengar, my court wizard. He's been looking into dragons and the.. tales of dragons."

He walked ahead, his soft, expensive boots making gentle sounds on the wood, with the Dark Elf woman close behind him.

They strolled into a separate area of the stronghold of Dragonsreach (She figured out the name later on) and saw a young man, who looked around her age, flipping through some books hurriedly.

The Jarl spoke first, "Farengar."

The young man looked up, alarmed that he was awakened from his daze of reading.

"I think I've found someone who can help you with your dragon project."

Farengar looked the Dark Elf behind his lord questioningly for a moment.

Balgruuf frowned, "Go ahead and fill her in with all the details."

The blonde Nord disappeared and Vendethiel turned towards the court wizard.

He had his hands on his hips and his eyes were hidden behind his hood.

"So the Jarl thinks you can of use to me..? Oh yes, he must be referring to my research into the dragons!"

His voice was extremely young and Vendethiel couldn't help but wonder his age.

"Yes," he continued, "I could use someone like you to fetch something for me."

The Dunmer frowned, "Fetch?"

Farengar scratched his nose, "Well, when I say that, I mean go into a dangerous ruin in search of a stone tablet that may or may not exist."

The woman's eyes went wide with shock, but she sighed.

She mustn't complain.

She was doing this to help Riverwood.

"All right, then. W-where am I going and what exactly am I fetching?"

The court wizard grinned, "Good! Straight to the point! No need for hows and whys. I like that."

The young woman crossed her arms and patiently stared.

"I, ah, learned of a certain ancient tablet that is supposedly in Bleak Falls Borrow - a 'Dragonstone', said to contain a map of dragon burial sights."

Vendethiel blinked.

They just wanted a rock with a map? How ridiculous.

"Go to Bleak Falls Borrow," Farengar continued, unmoved by his companion's unresponsive nature, "Find this tablet - no doubt somewhere in the main chamber - and bring it me! Simplicity itself."

The Dunmer nodded, "I.. I understand. I'll set off immediately."

With the heavy steel armor in her bag, the woman stumbled out of Dragonsreach, carrying the uncomfortable weight.

. . .

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><p>She reached the gate of Whiterun, and discovered a blacksmith.<p>

Immediately, she yanked out her gift from the Jarl and asked, "How much is this worth?"

The tan woman looked up at her with a blank stare before eyeing the armor wearily.

"At least two hundred gold. Are you looking to sell it?"

Vendethiel nodded and the armor was taken away from her, leaving a pile of shiny gold in her hands.

"Th-thank you!" She said quickly, before shoving the gold in her coin purse and closing her knapsack gently.

Looking closely at her map given to her by Gerdur, Vendethiel discovered that Bleak Falls Barrow was in Riverwood.

Much to her surprise, she found herself standing in Riverwood near midnight, panting and gasping for air.

The Dunmer stumbled to an inn, The Sleeping Giant Inn, and asked tiredly a blonde woman how much a room cost.

"Ten gold for each night, dear."

The young woman laid down the money before stumbling into an empty room and collapsing on the bed.

The moment her eyes shut, she fell into a deep sleep.

Vendethiel woke to the sound of a Bard singing joyfully, causing her to stir.

She sat up, looked around her, and grabbed her knapsack, reassuring herself that all of her belongings were still there.

The Dunmer stood and stretched slowly before stumbling out of her room and thanking the blonde woman who stood at the bar.

She was eyed questioningly before she walked out of the inn.

. . . . . .

The sun was brighter than ever before and the Dark Elf covered her eyes for a moment.

She then blinked for a few moments, then walked out from underneath the shade of the inn.

Two children sped past her, one being Gerdur's young boy, and a dog galloped after them.

Vendethiel smiled softly before pulling her map out of her bag and looking at it wearily.

Bleak Falls Barrow wasn't far away, but it would take some perseverance to climb the mountain.. Perhaps there was a path?

As the girl explored, she did eventually find a road, her nose stuck in her map as she did so.

As long as she stayed close to the path, perhaps she could stay out of trouble.

The walk was painfully cold, even with the warm fur given to her by Gerdur.

Wolves, which she slaughtered without a second thought, attacked her but she slowly approached a tower she knew was inhabited.

Bandits.

They patrolled the area sternly, some laughing and mocking those they had already killed.

Vendethiel slowly stalked towards their hideout, fearful of what may occur.

At first, she believed there was only three, but soon she discovered there were five as they took turns walking across the bridge.

Eventually, the Dunmer could almost touch one of the bandits with her outstretched arm.

She did not breath in fear of being noticed.

The girl drew her sword.

The sound immediately made her cringe.

"What was that?" A bandit asked, confused.

Vendethiel, not wanting to lose another second, stood up and jammed her sword into the man's back, causing blood to encase her sword and spurt out of the bandit's chest.

He let out a yell of alarm as he slowly sank into death, and the Dunmer slowly crept back into the darkness, trying not to think about how many people she had killed since her entrance to Skyrim,

His friends (two men and two women) approached with their weapons drawn threateningly.

I can't take them all on at once, she thought desperately.

"Oh, gods! Unther!" A woman sank to her knees and grasped her dead friend's shoulder, dropping her weapon.

A fellow bandit put a large hand on her shoulder, "It's alright.. He's in a better place."  
>The woman sobbed despite his comfort and Vendethiel took this as her chance.<p>

Leaping out of the shadows, she sliced into the man's chest, causing blood to fly onto her face, and growled viciously at the other bandits.

The woman on the ground yanked herself up and grabbed her iron war hammer, staring at Vendethiel with venom dripping from her eyes.

The others charged.

The Dunmer almost fainted as one of the men slammed his hammer into her back, causing her to yelp.

She stabbed him roughly in the stomach then used her flame spell to quickly incinerate the other woman.

The last one was the woman who sobbed over Unther.

She dropped her weapon and said slowly, "Kill me. So that I may be with my love."

Vendethiel stared at her before hesitantly stabbing her in the heart.

Her hands were stained with blood.

. . .

"Azura, forgive me."

And she continued on with a sober expression on her cold, pale face.

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><p><strong>You guys deserved this update :) Please forgive me for my laziness and my email! Hope you look forward to Chapter... five? I think? I don't even know.<strong>


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I'm trying a new style of typing.. I hope you guys like it :) **

**Thanks to..  
><strong>

**Elizabeth Carter -  
><strong>

**Chapter Two :** I'm glad you like it so far! I don't have too many readers.. But I guess that's my fault for not updating, like, at all XD Yeah, I figured out that they were all kinda racist against Dunmer a little while after I finished almost all of the main quest XD I don't really mind.. But I thought it was very rude :( Anyways, I'm very sorry for the slow updates :) I'm just very lazy. I hope you like this chapter, ma'am! Or sir.

**-:-  
><strong>

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><p>Vendethiel feared for her life when she approached Bleak Falls Barrow. The wind was cold and merciless. She could no longer feel her toes. The dark elf sliced through another thin group of bandits, taking whatever useful, or valuable items they had before stumbling towards the large, looming entrance to the dungeon. Blood dripped from some of her wounds as she grunted, using her small body to push open the doors.<p>

Inside it was beautiful, in a solemn way. There were bodies strewn across the ground along with some skeever (hideous, overgrown rats) corpses, but an opening in the ceiling, allowing light to pour in, lighted up the whole room. There were chunks of rocks everywhere, and ahead Vendethiel could see some bandits, huddling together and speaking softly. Anxious, she crouched and slowly made her way to them. As the dark elf came closer, she could make out what they were talking about.

"So we're supposed to just sit here while Arvel runs away with the golden claw?"

The young woman raised her brows. Didn't someone want her to retrieve something like that..? Suddenly, she stepped on a bone and the crack resounded throughout the area. Cursing lowly, Vendethiel jumped into the shadows, almost escaping an arrow, but she was too slow. She let out a yelp of pain as the weapon pierced her arm and footsteps became louder.

"I thought you said no one would be around here, fool!"

"Just shut up and kill her!"

The dark elf narrowly dodged another arrow before yanking out her sword and lunging at the female bandit who had foolishly stepped closer.

"Ugh!" The thief grunted, "Is that the best you can do?"

Vendethiel stabbed her in the stomach before pulling her weapon out of the bloody mess and slashing the female bandit's partner's throat.

"Not at all."

She searched their bodies and discovered a chest, picking its lock immediately. The girl took its contents and then cautiously walked down a dark tunnel. As she continued, she felt something sticky wrap itself around her. _What?_, she thought nervously. She stretched her hand out in front of her and held in a shriek as she realized that there were a few thin layers of spider webs surrounding her. The dark elf sped up and rounded a corner, only to stop and stare at an odd array of what seemed to be vines. Slowly, she made her way around them and down another damp, rocky hallway.

And another.

And then, another .

Vendethiel sighed, her breath visible as she stared at a small fire she had found. She rubbed her hands together over it, and tried to warm herself, but somehow her body remained cold. The dark elf slowly wrapped her arms around herself, and began to sob.

"What have I gotten myself into?" She asked herself silently.

Off in the distance, a faint moaning (it wasn't passionate. It seemed almost .. painful. Maybe even dead) echoed and Vendethiel jolted, standing up quickly and putting a hand to her sword. When nothing else was heard, she fell to the ground in a sad heap and tried to compose herself.

"I've got to keep moving. I can't turn around now. I'd disappoint that shopkeeper and, well, the Jarl."

The young woman nodded to herself before continuing down some claustrophobic hallways. Eventually, she reached an area where she could see a bandit in the distance. His torch was a beacon of discomfort and Vendethiel almost felt guilty when she drew her bow that she had received from Ralof. She pulled back an arrow and aimed shakily. _Now release_, she thought anxiously. And so, she did. The weapon went soaring through the air, surprisingly, and hit the target.

Right in the .. knee?

Vendethiel blinked owlishly at her bad aim, listening to the disturbing and angry yells of the bandit outlaw. It took her a moment to realize what sort of trouble she had just involved herself in and she hastily drew her sword as the furious man approached.

"You're mine!" He growled.

The dark elf kept silent, blocking his blow with her sword. He was strong, almost too strong, she noted, stumbling backwards, nervously keeping her eyes on the bandit's weapon. He swung it once more, bringing it down upon the fleeing elf's arm. Vendethiel let out a scream, attempted to jump out of the outlaw's way.

"You're not getting away!"

The whisper of a fire spell was all it took. The man suddenly screamed painfully as the dark elf girl crawled away, trying not to let any of her own attack follow her. When the bandit had fallen to the ground, burnt to a crisp, Vendethiel let out a sigh of relief, only to hiss in pain. She cursed. Her arm not only had a lovely arrow sticking out of it, but also now was bruised _horribly_ and had multiple deep cuts. Perhaps now would be a good time to try out some of those potions she received from Gerdur?

The young woman yanked a bright red bottle out of her knapsack before unscrewing the cork, serving as its lid. She sniffed the drink and gagged. It smelled _rancid_. Vendethiel tried to put some distance between her and the bottle, but failed. _The smell can only mean it works, _she thought positively. Her arm ached anyways. Quickly, the dark elf tossed back her head, devouring the shockingly blood red drink in one gulp.

She almost yakked.

The potion was so sickly sweet and .. bad. There was no practical way to describe it. It was officially her least favorite drink in the world. But, surprisingly, it worked. An odd feeling, like a thousand needles were slowly poking her arm slowly spread. The potion flowed throughout her body, and her wounds sealing up slightly. Slowly, Vendethiel stood, checking her body for major wounds. Her arm was still pretty wounded, seeing as to how she was too scared to remove the arrow, so she stumbled down the small tunnel before being dumped out in a large room.

She frowned. Was this supposed to be a trick? The exit of the room was blocked off by what looked like a gate. There was a lever nearby and the dark elf walked to it, yanking it to its opposite side slowly.

.. Nothing.

Vendethiel groaned before backing away and looking around. There were a few pillars with random pictures on them. _Those don't look too useful,_ she thought with a sigh. Slowly, her eyes made it to what looked like a larger version of one of the pictures that had collapsed. _Or not. _She looked up and smiled softly.

"Snake," she eyed the fallen piece, "Snake.. Fish."

A few minutes later, the gate had flown open and a satisfied dark elf ran through it. She found another chest, quickly gathering some treasures from what looked like vases, a book, and unfortunately, a couple of potions before making her way to an unstable looking staircase. The woman distrustfully placed her left foot on the first step. A hiss was heard and she backed away, unsheathing her sword. The hiss occurred again and this time, a black creature flew at the dark elf, causing her to quickly shove her sword forward.

"A skeever!" She gasped.

Her weapon had skewered the rat, and she fearfully kicked it off, not bothering to search for food from its meat. She let out a sigh of relief before sheathing her weapon, and continuing down the steps cautiously.

Only to be leapt upon by another rat-like creature.

Vendethiel kicked and squirmed, roughly falling down the steps, attempting to stop the monster from biting her, but failed. Its teeth sank into her shoulder and she screamed. The canines were sharp and dripping with blood now and before the skeever could take another bite, she stabbed it through the stomach. Blood spewed from its mouth onto the elf underneath the beast and she squirmed away, emptying her stomach thoroughly. _Dear Azura, please let there be no disease in me._

The girl refused to let herself move on without refilling her belly, sitting down in the sticky, smelly blood and searching through her knapsack for something to drink. She cursed. The dark elf hadn't packed any water, not even any wine. She leaned her head back against the stone behind her, settling for some red potion, knocking back the disgusting liquid quickly, trying not to spew her insides once more. The drink seemed even nastier than before, and the elf threw the clear bottle away from her, trying to rid herself of any memories of its taste. Vendethiel reached further into her bag and pulled out a loaf of bread she had salvaged from some place she could no longer remember. Unfortunately, more than half of it was spoiled.

After eating whatever she could of the bread, the young woman contemplated resting. When, abruptly, she heard a scream. A human scream.

"Someone! Someone, please help me! By the Nine, someone help me!"

Vendethiel scurried to her feet, groaning when she felt some random aches, and charged into the room ahead of her, not even flinching when she was brushed with some thick webs.

"Is.. Is someone coming to save me? Bjorn? Harknir? Soling?"

The dark elf continued to run, passing swiftly through multiple spider webs. She took a sharp left, hearing a man's sobs becoming louder and frowned at a thick web completely covering a doorway. She yanked out her sword and began to slash through it. Finding this to be too much of a hassle, she whispered a fire spell and the obstacle burst into flames. Vendethiel rushed into the room, her sword drawn heroically.

There, she saw a man, completely trapped in a spider's web. The woman smiled and began to run towards him, only to back away with wide, frightened, black eyes.

A giant spider, larger than she's ever seen, dropped only inches from where she was.

"Kill it! Dear Gods, please kill it!"

The creature spit venom at the frozen dark elf, only to watch with its multiple eyes as she ducked out of the way and flames danced out of her palm towards the spider. It hissed in pain and lunged at her, successfully capturing the young woman.

Only to be stabbed in the abdomen.

Vendethiel yanked her sword out and crawled out from underneath the beast, watching alertly. It walked towards her (an odd sound coming from it. A sound that the girl wished she had never heard in the first place) and spat once more, this time trying to bite her also. Its fangs dug into her torso as she tried to escape and she screamed, unaware of her audience gasping.

"Get.. Off of me, beast!"

The dark elf used both of her hands to grip her sword and shoved the weapon into the spider's head. Green liquid spilled from the wound and the girl shoved away from the dying creature. Everything was spinning. She stumbled to a wall and placed a hand on it for balance.

"It's coming back! Watch out!"

"You.. just don't die, do you?"

Vendethiel attempted to ignore the poison running through her veins and held up her sword. The spider almost seemed amused. She rushed at the beast and once more sliced at it. It could not dodge. The elf cast yet another fire spell, watching in satisfaction as the spider slowly crumpled to the ground. But, she felt weak.. Almost as though life was being sucked from her. Knowing vaguely of her poisoned state, she reached into her bag and pulled out a potion, barely aware of its red color. Vendethiel drank it quickly, gagging to her audience's amusement, and threw the bottle at the spider for good measure.

"You-.. You killed it! Good! Now get me down before something else shows up!"

She nodded and slowly made her way to the captured bandit. The elf used her sword and cut around his limbs, taking her time.

"Where is the golden claw?"

Of course he had it. She was not a fool. The bandit in front of her, Arvel, she presumed, sobered.

"Ah, yes, the claw. I have it. I know how it works. The claw, the markings, the door in the Hall of Stories.. they all fit together! Help me down, and I'll help you out. You have no idea what power the Nords have hidden here."

"Alright, just give me a moment."

Vendethiel finished freeing Arvel. He landed roughly on his hands and knees, gasping and smiling at his newly regained freedom. He looked up at his beautiful savior before shoving her to the ground and beginning to run away. His voice rang out.

"You fool! Why should I share the treasure with you?"

Quickly, the dark elf girl cursed herself for being stupid, picking herself up and running after him. She chased him through a couple of corridors until finally, they arrived in a crypt and Arvel slowed down. She slipped into the shadow of a pillar and pulled out of her bow, only to stop mid-action.

"Hmm? What was that?"

Arvel swirled around to face what looked like.. a dead Nord. It stood a few heads taller than him, and was very thin. It wasn't quite a skeleton, but not quite a full-fledged dead creature. It growled at the bandit and yanked out a weapon, immediately chopping off the man's head. Vendethiel gasped, causing the creature to look towards her.

She quickly grabbed her sword and leapt at it, slicing its frail body into two pieces. Suddenly, she was surrounded by two more of them, so she backed up, unaware that she had passed a panel on the ground. She continued to back up until finally, one of the drougr stepped on a decorated piece on the floor, and suddenly, a wall of spikes slammed into it and its friend, immediately killing both of them.

Vendethiel stared at the trap. _Such extreme measures to keep people out.. What exactly is hidden here?, _she thought as she retrieved the claw from Arvel's corpse. The golden claw was just as she believed it to be. A claw made of pure gold. As she examined the treasure, she noticed some markings on it and remembered the bandit mentioning that they were important..

She pocketed the gift. _I'll need it to continue, I believe.. _

The girl continued to travel throughout the dungeon, killing the drougr without another thought. The place seemed smaller when she first approached it.. Vendethiel wondered vaguely where she would come out when she exited Bleak Falls Barrow. The drougr could not take as much damage as she at first believed. Their frail bodies crumpled underneath her sword easily, making going further into the barrow easier.

At one point, she reached a doorway of swinging axes and almost turned back around and went home. But, seeing as to how she had multiple potions on hand (despite their disgusting taste, they worked) and she _had _to find that stone tablet, she did not. Vendethiel watched the swinging weapons until she finally bolted quickly through them, only getting slashed once, and despite its deepness and stinging, it was nothing a potion couldn't handle.

Further on, she reached a room where the dead warriors soon surrounded her. The elf looked around fearfully, only to slip to the ground in some sort of liquid. She gasped.

"..I remember this from Helgen!"

Quickly she stepped out of the liquid's embrace, whispering a fire spell and bolting off, feeling the heat of the flames lick her as she left the battleground.

. . .

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><p>Vendethiel pushed open the heavy wooden doors, uncomfortable aware of her shredded armor and the blood dripping from her wounds onto the already tainted ground. She had finally made it to the final room, she believed. She had ran out of potions a while back, but did not mind completely. They were horrible tasting.<p>

After being almost roasted alive by her own spell, sliced up by the drougr, and bitten by the small critters that ran about while she tried to rest, she had finally made it to this.. Hall of Stories. The walls seemed to be decorated with some sort of painting, but years of age had taken a toll on the art. The dark elf stumbled to the circular structure in front of her before trying to yank it open.

It didn't even shift.

"I suppose.. This may be where the claw is used?" Vendethiel mumbled, noting the three holes placed in the 'door'.

She pulled out the treasure and places its claws in the correct places, and attempted to open the door once more.

"What..? Oh! The markings!"

Hastily, the dark elf did the same as she did with the last puzzle the dungeon had thrown at her. She quickly matched up the drawings and smirked when the circular door was pulled away by whatever magic held the dungeon together.

Hungry to taste fresh air, Vendethiel charged up the stairs, and through the vast area ahead of it, completely ignoring the bats that attempted to fly directly into her face. The sound of a waterfall hit her ears like a serenade of beauty and she stumbled into a large, lit area of the barrow.

The elf stumbled up some steps and was almost knocked over when she saw a giant wall, curved in almost as though it was beckoning forth those who sought the treasure in its arms.

"Have I seen this wall before..?" Vendethiel asked, with a confused expression.

Yes.. In a dream, perhaps.. This wall was very familiar. It called for her... Begged for her to read its secrets. The girl slowly approached the wall and suddenly, voices were all around her.

Chanting.

Yes.. She would need to read all of this wall.. Study it.. Something seemed.. Very important about it. Vendethiel stepped closer to it and suddenly, blue light, slithering like a snake, glided towards the girl's heart, landing there and pulling her closer to the wall. It almost sounded like a woman's voice was whispering to her..

"_**Fus**_."

The word radiated throughout the dark elf's mind and body, and suddenly, the other words on the wall disappeared. All she saw was a strange writing she had never seen before, but she somehow understood what it said..

"Fus.. Force.. Unrelenting force.."

Suddenly, the sound of the lid of a coffin being kicked off interrupted Vendethiel's thoughts and she spun around, drawing her sword. There stood a drougr, much more different than the ones she had fought earlier. It wore a magical-looking helmet and suddenly, it spoke. It spoke a language that the dark elf couldn't understand, but she felt as though she should.

They fought for what felt like hours, Vendethiel being sliced occasionally and landing a good hit in every once in a while, until finally the drougr fell to the ground, its eyes losing its glow. She also fell to the ground in a heap, racking her brain for an answer to why this all was happening to her. _Dear Azura.. I .. I .. have nothing to say.. _The girl shook her head.

"It was probably just all the potions I drank. I'm sure there's a limit one can have.."

When she was done taking all of the treasure (including the stone tablet she was sent to retrieve) from the final room, the dark elf eventually found herself standing on what looked like the top of a mountain.

"Where... am I?"

She looked at her map wearily, but just ended up sitting down on the cold snow, crying into her bloody arms, one flaunting a gaping hole from when a drougr finally tore out the arrow in her arm, probably not trying to make her feel better. Her armor was completely ruined and she couldn't go back to the Jarl like this..

"I just won't go back yet.. I just.. need to rest for a while," Vendethiel told herself.

And so, she closed her eyes and dreamt of Shepherd's pie and dancing drougr.

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><p><strong>AN:**

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**Sorry for the long wait! Please look forward to Chapter 6!  
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	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: I'm .. not quite sure about this new style of typing.. But it looks pretty XD **

**I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

**Please leave feedback :)**

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><p>Vendethiel's trip back to Dragonsreach was six days long. She stopped for absolutely nothing but sleep, and ate whatever she could salvage from the innkeepers for free. When she arrived at the beautiful gates of the palace, she stormed in, shoving the doors open and glaring grumpily at the maids who gasped at her torn clothes. The dark elf swiftly ran up the pristine steps, ignoring all of those around her.<p>

She strutted into the wizard's office, pausing when she realized that the young man was speaking with someone.

"You see? The terminology is clearly First Era or even earlier. I'm convinced this is a copy of a much older book."

Farengar turned towards his dark elf guest and his hood hid a portion of his shocked expression. He quickly composed himself as the dark elf pulled out the stone tablet he had been looking for.

"Ah! The Dragonstone of Bleak Falls Barrow!" the wizard let his eyes study the exhausted explorer in front of him, "You're a little bit.. smarter than the brutes the Jarl usually sends my way.."

"I got you the Dragonstone. What's next?" Vendethiel asked.

Farengar crossed his arms and sighed, "That is where your job ends, and mine begins. The work of the mind, sadly undervalued in Skyrim. My.. associate here will be pleased to see your handiwork. She discovered its location by means that she is not willing to share with me."

The dark elf eyed the woman standing nearby, hands on either side of a book, as though she was concentrating very hard on the blood red cover. _Who is this woman?_, she thought vaguely.

"So," the handsome wizard continued, "your information was correct after all, and we have our friend here to thank for recovering it for us."

The woman at the desk smirked, "You went to Bleak Falls Barrow and got that? Nice work," she then turned to her wizard friend, "Just send me a copy when you've deciphered it."

Before Farengar could even respond, the woman from Vendethiel's last visit, Irileth, rushed into his room. The dark elf could not come to a conclusion on her race, but she decided she was probably a dark elf, as well, or perhaps an orc..?

"A dragon's been sited nearby. You're going to need to come with me," The redheaded woman turned towards the beaten up dark elf, "you should come, too."

The court wizard ran to her, his friend seemingly disappearing, "A dragon! How exciting! Where was it seen? What was it doing?"

Vendethiel eagerly awaited the answer to his questions, also quite enthusiastic about the fact that she would once again be able to see the majestic creature.

Irileth scoffed, "I would take this a bit more seriously if I were you. If the dragon were to attack Whiterun, I don't know if we'd be able to stop it."

The two younger folk were disappointed, but still followed her with haste, the elf of the two almost slipping and smacking her jack against one of the steps. When the group of three reached the Jarl, he was standing uncomfortably, speaking with a guard.

"So, Irileth told me you are from the western watchtower?" He asked calmly.

The soldier answered nervously, "Y-yes, my lord."  
>The redheaded elf (orc..?) stepped forward, "Tell the Jarl what you told me about.. the dragon."<p>

"Uh, that's right.. We saw it coming from the south.. It was fast.. Faster than anything I've ever seen," the Whiterun guard replied.  
>"What did it do?" The Jarl asked, "Is it attacking the watchtower?"<br>"No, my lord. It was just circling overhead when I left.. Like it was waiting for something.. I've never ran so fast in my life. I thought for sure it would swoop down and kill me," The Nord said shakily.

Balgruuf smiled softly, but it was broken, "Good work, son. We'll take it from here. Head down to the barracks from some food and rest. You've earned it."  
>When the guard disappeared, he turned to his redheaded friend with a stern expression, "Irileth, you'd better gather some guardsmen and get down there."<br>The woman nodded, "I've already ordered my men to muster near the main gate."  
>The Jarl nodded as well, "Good. Don't fail me."<p>

Vendethiel didn't react. She was still frozen from the guard's few first words.

"_Like it was waiting for something.."_

"_Waiting for something.."_

"_Waiting for **someone.**"_

"Dark elf. There's no time to stand on ceremony, my friend," Jarl Balgruuf's voice pulled her from her frightening day dream, "I need your help again."

Vendethiel nodded numbly, "O-of course."  
>The blonde Nord still held a stiff expression, "I want you to go with Irileth and help her fight this dragon. You survived Helgen, so you have more experience with dragons than anyone else here, but.. I haven't forgotten the service you did for me in getting the Dragonstone for my court wizard. As a token of my esteem, I have instructed Avenicci that you are now permitted to purchase a house in the city. And please accept this gift from my personal armory."<p>

Suddenly, the girl was handed a heavy set of banded iron armor, glowing with a slight hint of enchantment. It weighed her down a lot, but she wasn't going to complain.

"Th-thank you," She said silently.

Farengar stood close behind her, "You should go on ahead. I'll be coming along. I would very much like to see this dragon."

Vendethiel nodded, placing the armor in her knapsack despite its weight. She'd probably sell it later so she could buy some new, lighter armor.

The Jarl shook his head, "No. I can't afford to risk both of you. I need you here working on ways to defend the city against these creatures."

"As you command." The disappointment could almost be felt.

The dark elf girl quickly made her way down the stairs, passing Irileth who grabbed her arm with a strict face.

"I suggest you get some new armor before we head out. You look terrible."

Vendethiel frowned, "I guess you're right, but.. Okay."  
>. . .<p>

By the time the young woman with the ink black hair had made it to the main gate, she had some new leather armor, but no helmet, and her knapsack was lighter. Irileth seemed to have just finished up a prep talk with her men (there were very little soldiers) and was just about to charge out of the gates before spotting Vendethiel.

"I'm glad you took my advice. Are you prepared?"  
>"Yes," The dark elf gulped, "I am."<p>

"Good. Let's move out."

The run from the gate to the western watchtower, or at least to a spot near it, was not extreme, but Vendethiel was sweating in anticipation. When the entire team of fighters crouched behind a large rock, she felt as though her heart was beating out of her chest. Irileth was the first to speak.

"No signs of any dragon right now, but it sure looks like he's been here."

What she said was completely true. The stone tower had doorways missing and there was dangerous black smoke rising from around it. There seemed to be fire everywhere. The flag at the top of the watchtower still blew with the wind heroically.

"I know it looks bad," Irileth continued, "but we've got to figure out what happened. And if that dragon is still skulking around somewhere."

She drew her sword and looked directly at Vendethiel, "Spread out and look for survivors. We need to know what we're dealing with!"

The girl with the long hair nodded, letting her black eyes scan the dark skies cautiously. She unsheathed her sword (she had it improved by a pretty blacksmith) and slowly approached the tower. There was rubble everywhere, and random fires crackled to life around her. As she came closer to the fallen entrance of the watchtower, she saw an injured soldier crawling out, shouting. She ran to him.

"No! Get back! It's still here somewhere! Hroki and Tor just got grabbed when they tried to make a run for it!" He yelled, swatting at her with his bloody hand.

He suddenly stopped and observed his surroundings, crying softly, "Shor's bones, did it kill them all..?"

Before Vendethiel could respond, a large roar resounded throughout the area, but to her it sounded as though the creature was directly behind her. Almost as though it occurred in slow motion, a brown and yellow dragon swooped down and took the injured Whiterun guard in his claws, seemingly immediately cutting him in half. His helmet fell to the ground in front of the shocked dark elf, who couldn't bring herself to move her legs.

"Run, elf! Run!"

Almost as though slapped across the face, Vendethiel stumbled back, watching as the giant beast swooped down towards her. In a panic, she charged into the watchtower, falling to the ground when the entire building shook violently. The dark elf heard the soaring of arrows and stumbling up the stairs, scrapping her knees badly, even with her protective armor on. When she reached the top, the dragon was circling the men on the ground. Something bubbled inside Vendethiel's throat, but she couldn't quite spit it out. She wanted ...

To shout.

The dark elf banged her sword on a nearby forgotten shield, yelling incoherent things until the dragon landed itself on the top of the tower with her. It almost felt like an earthquake. It looked down on her and ... Said something. Vendethiel stared blankly, only regaining her common sense when the beast attempted to eat her. She dove out of the wave, almost diving off the tower, and used her sword to slice the dragon's leg. It roared in pain, and began to shout (yet again, breath just simply wasn't the right way to describe it) fire in random directions.

"Whatever you're doing, elf, keep doing it!" Irileth yelled from the ground.

Multitudes of arrows sliced into the creature's scaly skin and Vendethiel took this chance to wrap one of her pale hands around one of its toes. The sensation.. was familiar, to say the least. The dragon stopped its panicking and rolled one of its devilish red eyes around to see its violator. It spoke again, and this time, Vendethiel recognized it.

"_**Fus.. Ro dah!**_"

Abruptly, the shout from the beast's mouth sent the dark elf flying off the edge of the watchtower. She let out a yelp of pain before reaching up in desperation, only to see that that dragon had disappeared.. ?

"Guaah!"

Vendethiel was caught in the air, perhaps not the best thing, as shinnying, yet molding teeth held her in almost a delicate embrace. She was being carried in a dragon's mouth. She was saved ... by a dragon.

"Vendethiel!" Irileth shouted.

Somehow, shouted didn't seem like a human term anymore. The dark elf picked up her sword (it was wrapped tightly in the dragon's tongue and stabbed the roof of the beast's mouth, though she could not quite see her actions. The creature roared and began soaring towards the ground. _This isn't good_, the dark elf's thoughts scream.

"Jump out, you fool!"

Jump.. out? Vendethiel watched the fast approaching ground and decided that jumping out may be the best option. She pried open enough space to slip out and fell to the ground, but not before realizing that her arm was spewing blood and she had practically belly-flopped onto rough dirt.

"Vendethiel! Are you alright?" Irilieth's voice was very distant and soon, the dark-haired girl realized that a sickly sweet liquid was being poured down her throat.

She tried to spit it up, but a hand was clamped out her mouth, so she was forced to swallow it, her wounds quickly numbing as the odd sensation of the potion settled it. Irileth slapped her quickly and Vendethiel's eyes shot open. Her arm still stung, but not as bad as it did before.

"You did it. You made it land. Now perhaps we have a fair fight. Come," the redheaded woman gave her a hand, "Defeat the dragon with us."  
>The young woman with the pale skin nodded, "Alright. I think.. that potion works miracles.."<p>

Irileth snorted coldly before jumped back into battle with the grounded dragon. It looked miserable, as though it missed the skies, but also, it was being attacked from all sides, slowly dying, but not completely dying. It was .. invincible? Vendethiel approached the beast with her sword and frowned.

"I will give you the death, my friend, you have been waiting for."

The beast spoke back to her in rough, ancient tongue, but the dark elf could not understand.

"_**Dovahkiin! No!**_"

She drew her sword and stood in front of the dragon's head. And as those around it distracted it, she stabbed it directly through the skull, jumping on top of its head for more leverage. Blood painted her face and as she leapt down, she was uncomfortably aware of the shocked expressions from the surroundings Nords.

Then..

Something strange happened.

As the dark elf strolled away, she heard a voice, a breath-like whisper. Multiple voices chanted around her, similar to when she approached the strange wall at Bleak Falls Barrow, but this time.. It was different. Wind, no.. Not wind.. It was golden, sparkling.. Blue. It was a soul. It wisped around her, in the sky, up in the air, causing her hair to fly around her artistically and sucking itself towards her heart. And she gasped, her eyes going wide, almost collapsing as an overwhelming power formed inside her. She clenched her heart, groaning in pain, and this time, actually falling to her knees. It felt as though she was on fire, and as she looked down at her body, it looked the same way. And suddenly, the flames on her body were gone, but the overwhelming.. soul in her body was not.

"_**Fus.**_"

"_**Fus.**_"

"Fus..?" She whispered to herself, gripping her head with her hand, nervously looking around her. The dragon seemed to cackle with fire, its scales and skin no longer there, only a large skeleton. There were the remains of guards spilling out of its stomach, and Vendethiel couldn't help but try and get away.

"I can't believe it.. You're Dragonborn!" A guard said, pointing at her, almost accusingly.

Vendethiel frowned, "What do you mean..?"  
>The Nord spoke with a shocked look on his face, "In the very old tales, back from when there were still dragons in Skyrim, the Dragonborn could slaw dragons and steal their power.. That's what you did, isn't it? Absorbed that dragon's power?"<p>

The guards suddenly stared at her as though she was a dragon herself.

"I-.. I think you may be right," She replied softly.

The guard gulped, "There's only one way to find out. Try to shout."

"Shout?" The dark elf asked.

"Yes! According to old legends," The Nord said hurriedly, "only the Dragonborn can shout without training, the way the dragons do!"

The guards began to discuss the matter amongst them as Vendethiel remembered the wall she encountered.

"_**Fus. Force.**_"

"Fus.. Force.."

"_**Fus. Force**_."

"Fus.. Force."

"_**Fus! Force!**_"

"Fus..! Force..!"

"_**Shout.**_"

The dark elf backed up and cracked her neck. The guards stopped their chattering and watched as she took a deep breath.

"FUS!"

A guard stumbled, yelling in panic, and almost fell to the ground as Vendethiel stood, with a shocked, amazed expression. The other guards watched in wonder as she did it once more, covering her mouth timidly after doing so.

The one Nord who had spoken to the elf first, approached her, "That was shouting, what you just did! You must.. really be the Dragonborn, then!"

The guards gossiped together as Irileth walked towards the Vendethiel.

"You should report back to Jarl Balgruuf," She said, scoffing at her men's dumb shock.

The Dragonborn, or at least, that's what she was expected to be, nodded, before turning and stumbling towards the large fortress of Whiterun. As she walked slowly, breathing heavily and nervously, she realized that the power inside of her was released every time she shouted.

"So.. I took a dragon's soul..?" She whispered to herself.

Suddenly, as she quickly approached the stables, the ground shook as though a dragon was landing where Vendethiel was standing and thunder boomed.

"_Dovahkiin!_"

. . .

* * *

><p>The dark elf crashed into Dragonsreach, rushing to Jarl Balgruuf with a panicked expression. He looked nervous as well.<p>

"What happened at the watchtower? Was the dragon there?" He asked quickly.

Vendethiel spoke quickly and in a frightened manner, "Th-the watchtower was destroyed, but we killed the dragon! I-I'm something called the Dragonborn!"

The Jarl put a hand up, "Calm down, dark elf. What do you know about the Dragonborn?"

The girl nodded, "I-I.. I absorbed the dragon's power when it died!"  
>Balgruuf lowered his hand and gasped, "So it's true.. The Greybeards really were summoning you.."<p>

The girl with a black hair frowned, "Greybeards...?"

The blonde Nord nodded, "Masters of the Way of the Voice. They live in seclusion high on the slops of the Throat of the World."

The elf frowned, "What do they want with me?"

"The Dragonborn is said to be uniquely gifted in the Voice - the ability to focus your vital essence into a Thu'um or a Shout. If you really are Dragonborn, they can teach you how to use your gift." the Jarl replied.

Vendethiel gasped, "So.. I absorbed the dragon's soul and used his vital essence.. Along with my blood as the Dragonborn, I suppose."

Then, Balgruuf and a man began to speak for a moment, while the dark elf listened carefully, still absorbing the frightening information. _I only came here because.. I .. I can't be this Dragonborn.. _She hid her tears from those surrounding her.

"You've done a great deed for my city and myself. By my right as Jarl, Vendethiel, I name you Thane of Whiterun. It's the greatest honor that's within my power to grant. I assign you Lydia as a personal House Carl, and this weapon from my armory to serve you as your badge of office. I'll also notify the guards of your new title! Wouldn't want them thinking you're part of the common rabble, eh? We are honored to have you as Thane of our city, Dragonborn."

The girl nodded, turning away with a large axe given to her by the Breton standing beside the throne. It was too much, too soon, so as the Jarl and his subjects began to discuss her fate, she stuffed her prizes in her knapsack and ran to the gate. A woman, with heavy armor and dark hair reached out towards her (probably Lydia), but she ignored her completely and ran away, sobbing and breathing in heavily the fresh air of Whiterun, completely ignoring her injuries.

* * *

><p><strong>AN : **

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**Please look forward to Chapter Seven!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Good afternoon! I was so inspired.. I wrote another chapter :) **

**Thanks to.. **

**Jaclyn () - **You like it..? Thank you very much! Oh.. Well thank you XD I am very honored that you'd say such a thing! Sure! I take requests :3 No joke, I think if I got a request I would, like, do backflips and celebrate, and try to put it in the next chapter :) Anyways, thank you for reviewing! I hope you enjoy this chapter!

**OMG I KEEP MISSING THE LEGEND OF KORRAH. I TRY TO WAKE UP IN TIME BUT I MISS IT!**

**Ahem. **

**Enjoy~!**

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><p>The dark elf was huddled in a dark corner, listening vaguely to the sounds of those around her. She could hear children laughing and playing, yelling at each other. She could hear the nearby blacksmith pounding away in her smithy. The pale woman could also hear a distant fight, probably between two hotheaded Nords.<p>

But the sounds were alien. She was not meant to be here, in Whiterun. She was supposed to be at home in Vivec with.. her family. She was born in MORROWIND, for Azura's sake! How was a dark elf supposed to be the almighty 'Dragonborn'? She wasn't even raised anywhere CLOSE to Skyrim! All Vendethiel wanted to do, was go home. Back to Vivec, where she could chat happily with her friends and tease her little sister, Viveck, who was named after their hometown. There was so much more she wanted to experience with that child, like helping her get ready for her wedding, or maybe taking care of her children. She wanted to grow old with her friend, Trajan and have children and settle down. But, no. Fate grabbed her by the ankle and pulled her away from her happy ending, somehow spitting her out in Skyrim of all places.

And NOW, she was some sort of legendary hero named Dovahkiin! That doesn't even make sense! Wouldn't it make more sense if the hero was a Nord? It would be logical! It would allow Vendethiel to go home. But now, she was trapped in Skyrim, saving the whole country from DRAGONS!

The young woman stood, growling angrily, and kicked a barrel, not feeling anymore satisfied when its contents spilled to the dirty ground. She was about to kick another one, when she heard a giggle from behind her. She spun around quickly and her expression softened when her midnight eyes landed on a young boy. Before she could say another word, he ran to her and gently pushed her with his pudgy hand.

"You're it!"

Vendethiel blinked owlishly. Was this.. tag? She and Viveck used to play it frequently, but then .. The dark elf's expression darkened as she watched the boy run away, stopping occasionally to see if she was chasing him.

"Oh, Viveck.." She whispered, wishing the wind would carry her words to her little sister, who was probably still perched in her favorite tree, singing her favorite song.

"Are you going to come and get me?" asked the little boy with a slight pout on his young face.

The girl with the black hair smiled softly, "I'm sorry, but I can't. I have .. business to attend to. Thank you, though, for cheering me up."

She turned around and frowned at the mess she had made when she threw a tantrum. _I suppose that was a very childish act.. _The dark elf walked silently out of her hiding spot and let the fading sunlight dance across her young features. She guessed that it would be smart to go ahead and head for those Greybeard fellows, but where could she start? She pulled out her damaged map and frowned, looking at where there was a mark, reading 'High Hrothgar'. _Looks like I'm going to have to climb a mountain..?_ It didn't look like there was anything nearby where she would hitch a ride, too, but as she reached the stables in a slow manner, she eyed the man with the wagon.

"Excuse me, sir." She said softly.

The Nord looked down at the dark elf and replied, "Need a ride?"

Vendethiel nodded, "Yes, I do. I was wondering where you could take me that is fairly close to High Hrothgar."

"I'm afraid there's not a place that's too nearby to that fortress, miss. There's a village at the bottom of the mountain named Ivarstead," he carefully marked the place on her map, "but the terrain is too rough for me to take you there. I only do major cities, in the first place, I'm afraid."

The dark elf nodded, "And what major city is closest to this.. Ivarstead?"

The Nord carefully pondered this for a moment before responding, "Riften."

"Then I'd like a ride to there, please," she said firmly.

"That'll be twenty gold, ma'am."

Vendethiel handed the Nord the correct amount of money after searching through her knapsack for her coin purse. Surprisingly, she had gathered up enough money throughout her adventure so far to pay the price.

"Climb in back and we'll be off."

The girl nodded before hastily jumping into the horse carriage, sitting down in an uncomfortable position and closing her eyes.

"It's a long way to Riften, and I'm not quite sure why people like it so much nowadays. It's such a nasty place with thieves and goons running around the place without the guards even sending a glance. I met a lad there once..."

. . .

. . . .

. . . . .

Black eyes fluttered open and awoke to aching pain. Vendethiel sat up, groaning sleepily when she realized that she had slept in a very uncomfortable spot. Her back was sore and she cracked her neck a few times to regain some comfort.

"Ah, you're awake. I'm afraid my blabbering lulled you to sleep."  
>The dark elf mumbled, "I suppose so."<p>

The Nord silenced himself, and Vendethiel looked around her in confusion. The night made everything around them as black as night except for the lanterns and torches with the man driving the carriage. The young woman with the pale skin looked up at the sky and let out a gasp.

The entire night was lit with thousand of stars, without a single cloud in the sky. Constellations danced in her black eyes and she couldn't help but stare in awe of the beautiful array of magic. The night sky was painted with black, but surprisingly, there was an amazing splash of a dark purple.

"I've never seen a sky so beautiful," Vendethiel whispered, "I wish Viveck was here."

"We're not too far from Riften, but if you'd like to gain some more rest, I suggest you do. Falling asleep in the streets of that place is a stupid plan. You'll be robbed blind."

The dark elf nodded, resting her head back in a more comfortable position than the last. Then, she fell asleep, falling into a dream of the beautiful night sky and stars dancing into her palm.

. . .

. . . .

. . . . .

"Go on ahead and wake up, miss."

Vendethiel frowned, rubbing her eyes grumpily. Her second nap was much less enjoyable than her first, since she hadn't quite gotten a good rest since she was at Riverwood. She rose, looking around her, and realized quickly that it was the early hours of the morning. Her driver was slowing to a stop.

"Here it is. Riften, the city of filth."

The dark elf looked up, frowning in acknowledgement of the insult to the city. She stumbled out of the carriage and thanked the driver before sauntering to the gates. They weren't nearly as welcoming as Whiterun's, but then again, perhaps she was looking at them wrong. A guard immediately stepped forward.

"Halt! If you want in Riften, you have to pay the visitor's tax."

Vendethiel stared dumbly for a moment before growling, "What are you talking about? This is obviously a shake down!"

The guard suddenly stuttered, "L-let's keep this quiet. Go on ahead into the city.. Let me just unlock the gate."

The young woman with black hair and pale skin watched with satisfaction as the gates were unlocked, and she strolled in, immediately getting slapped in the face with the stench of blood and treachery. She looked around her. The buildings were poorly made, and everything seemed to be dark and gloomy, all things a different shade of brown. Banners that were hanging up looked torn and ragged, the symbol being two swords crossed over one another. _This place is a mess._

"I don't know you. You in Riften lookin' for trouble?"

Vendethiel spun around, looking up at a man in tough-looking armor and a beaten face. He looked.. terrifying. She couldn't tell if he was peering into his soul, or just.. standing there. She didn't like Riften, she decided.

"I-.. I'm not scared of you."  
>The man stared at her with a scary expression before cracking his knuckles and stepping into the milky light of morning, "Wrong answer."<p>

The dark elf wasn't even close to prepared when his fist was suddenly colliding with her pale, grayish blue face. _I've only been here for ten seconds and someone is already trying to kill me. _She was knocked to the ground quickly and pain soared throughout her body as the heavy man straddled her and began to punch her repeatedly. Finally gaining her senses, Vendethiel spat at him, only to have that fail miserably and get a black eye. Suddenly, she smirked, or at least, attempted to as she received a painful beating.

. . .

"FUS!"

. . .

The effects on the guard that the dark elf first used this .. shout on were minor, but he was a few feet away and had armor on. This man? Inches from her, and, well, wearing armor. He was knocked off of her, though, so she took this chance to scurry to her feet and run. She stumbled to what looked like the center of Riften and tripped on someone (literally. He was just sitting there as if he owned the entire city), skidding to the ground with a couple of splinters from the unprofessional wooden .. dock-like structure. She could hear the approaching, angry male and tried to gather herself up to her feet, but suddenly, a shadow was upon her, and she wrapped her hands around her head, trying to block the upcoming blows.

"Aye, that's no way to treat visitors, lad."

Vendethiel looked up, her face sore and bloody, and gaped. There was a man, not the one that wanted to rip her hair out, standing in between her and the angry attacker. His hair was a reddish brown and he was a Nord with a heavy accent. _But.. why is he saving.. me? _

Her attacker seemed to suddenly lose interest, growling lowly like a dog at the dark elf's savior. He trudged off and Vendethiel blinked owlishly as he slowly disappeared. The redheaded Nord in front of her , turned around and looked down at her with curious dark eyes. She stood nervously, using her forearm to wipe her face.

"Th-thank you."  
>"It's no problem, lass... I must say, though, I'm not surprised you're so beaten up."<br>"H-huh? Why?"

The Nord wrapped a hand around her wrist, and she realized just how small she had gotten. _I guess that's what happens when you don't eat for a while. _

"You look like you haven't eaten in years, lass! Let me buy you something to eat. You need it."  
>"I-," she swallowed anxiously, "I'll be fine. I have my own money - I'll get it myself."<br>"Then, I'll accompany you."

Not seeing a way out of having a partner for a meal, Vendethiel sighed and nodded, allowing the redheaded man to guide her to a tavern called The Bee and Barb.

. . .

The dark elf did not frequently visit bars, but at this moment, she didn't quite mind. Her 'friend' seemed to be a regular because he was greeted with multiple hoards of unkind words upon his entry. He led her to a small table and waved down a lizard woman, whom frowned at Vendethiel's rude staring.

"I'd like some ale and venison stew, Keereva, lass," said the redhead Nord.

The lizard nodded, "That's thirteen septims, for you, Brynjolf. And you, elf?"

The dark elf had been so awed by the woman's appearance, she didn't even think about what she could afford, so she just stared dumbly. Apparently, her staring seemed unattractive because Keereva hissed.

"Something you want to say, elf? Order already and stop wasting my time!"  
>Luckily, Vendethiel regained her senses and hawed, "I-I apologize if I offended you! I would, ahh, like some apple cabbage soup and, and, and a mammoth cheese bowl and, umm, some water."<br>The reptile stared at her before frowning, "We don't serve mammoth cheese bowls here."  
>"A-ah, then, I'd like a sweet roll, instead."<p>

Keereva held out her hand, still with a deep frown on her lizard-like face, "That'll be seventeen septims."

The dark elf scrambled to search through her bag for her coin purse, and luckily salvaged just enough to pay for the meal, sighing when she realized that she no longer had any spending money. Keereva disappeared quickly, probably to the kitchen to make the confusing orders, and left the Nord and dark elf alone.

"You haven't seen an Argonian before, have you, lass?"

Vendethiel looked up at Brynjolf (she was short, and he was tall), "I-.. No. There are very few, if not zero in my home town."  
>"And if you don't mind me asking, where is that?"<p>

"I-.. Vivec, Morrowind.. And if you don't mind me asking.. Why are you helping me?"

The redheaded Nord leaned back a bit, staring with an unknown emotion.

. . .

"Running a little light on the pockets, aye, lass?"

"I'm sorry, what?"

Before Brynjolf could respond, Keereva showed up, arms full. She laid down the food on the table, and walked away after grumbling something to the Nord. Trying to get back on subject, Vendethiel stared intently at her 'friend's face. He ate his food silently, ignoring her gaze. She sighed, deciding that she may as well eat instead of gaping at the man like a fish. She picked up a wooden spoon and began to eat her soup hurriedly, curious about how she was unable to feel this painful hunger earlier. Once the delicious (in reality, it was nasty, but her starvation romanticized its flavors) meal was gone, she gulped down her water, which soothed her throat, and eyed her sweet roll consciously.

"You look like you need some more food, lass! Would you like for me to wave down Keereva?" Brynjolf asked kindly.

Vendethiel frowned, "I-, ahh, no thank you."

In all honesty, she could have gone for another ten servings of that soup, but she no longer could afford a single drop of honey. She had a feeling that that was what the Nord wanted to hear.

The dark elf finished her amazingly tasty sweet roll, and sighed in relief. Blood rushed to her face when she noticed Brynjolf's gaze on her. He must have finished a while ago because whatever utensils he used were gone.

"Your pockets.. they're a little low on coin. I can tell."  
>Vendethiel looked him dead in the eye, matching his straight face with pure black eyes, "How could you possibly have known that?"<br>"It's all about sizing up your mark, lass. The way they walk, what they're wearing. It's a dead giveaway."

"My wealth is none of your business."

"Oh, but that's where you're wrong, lass. Wealth _is _my business."

The dark elf studied him with her piercing eyes, noting that he was wearing extremely fine clothes, unlike those who were in the tavern with them. He was rich.

"Maybe you'd like a taste?" he offered.

_The worst he can do is offer me a bad job. I might as well. _Vendethiel leaned in.

"What do you have in mind?"

The Nord let a slip of relief flash upon his face, "I've got a bit of an errand to run and I need an extra pair of hands. And in my line of work, extra hands are well-paid."  
>"What," the young woman with the black hair crossed her arms, "do I have to do?"<br>"Simple," Brynjolf began, "I'm going to cause a distraction and you're going to steal Madesi's silver ring from a strongbox under his stand. Once you have it, I want you to place it in Brand-Shei's pocket without him noticing."

Vendethiel frowned. She didn't mind the fact that this job called for thievery. She was good at that. As a young girl, her family was quite.. poor. So she stole whatever they needed. But..

"Why plant the ring on Brand-Shei?"

No, she did not know who these people were, but she might as well just go with it.

"There's someone who wants to see him put out of business permanently. That's all you need to know. Now, you tell me when you're ready and we'll get started."  
>"Well," the young dark elf said, "let's go on ahead, then."<br>Brynjolf nodded, "Good. Wait until I've started the distraction, then show me what you're made of."

He stood and walked out of the tavern, making a slight motion that probably meant, 'Follow me'. Vendethiel waited for a few seconds, then gathered her things, and sauntered out of the building as well. When she arrived outside, the Nord had already started.

"Everyone! Gather around! I have something amazing to show you that _demands_ your attention!"

_Please, be more suspicious, _Vendethiel thought with a snort. She walked around for a moment, pretending to give Brynjolf her attention. He flicked his hand in a random direction, and she followed the motion, noticing an unattended stand. She walked to it slowly, not listening to her partner's blabbering. While no one was looking, she ducked down and looked around, ensuring that no one was watching her suspicious movements. She pulled out a lockpick, quickly using it to unlock the sliding door in front of her. The dark elf slid it open, sighing when she realized she had to use it once again. She broke the lockpick almost immediately, but soon pried open the chest, dumping the entire thing into her knapsack, smiling vaguely when she saw that she had some more money to buy food. Slowly, she closed the chest and the door and stood, walking around the dock-like structure and looking around curiously.

_I have to find Brand-Shei.. Who might that even be? _

"That was just a simple misunderstanding! This is the real thing, _Brand-Shei_."

Vendethiel yet again scanned the small crowd for a response, and cringed when she saw her target. One of her own, a dark elf. Silently, she crept up behind him (he was sitting on some boxes and she had a clean path to his pockets, and as swiftly as she could, she dropped the ring into his pocket, causing him to turn quickly, and her to jump out of her sights.

"Well, I see that my time is up! Come back tomorrow if you'd like to buy."

The small gathering dispersed and Brynjolf approached the dark elf with a satisfied expression.

"Looks like I chose the right person for the job. And here you go, just as I promised, your reward."

He dropped a coin purse into the dark elf's hand and continued to speak, ignoring her awe.

"The way things have been going around here, it's a relief that our plan went off without a hitch."  
>Vendethiel eyed him cautiously, "What's been going on?"<p>

Brynjolf crossed his arms, "Bah. My organization has been having a bit of a run of bad luck, but that's just how it is, I suppose. But never mind that, you did the job and you did it well. Best of all, there's more where that came from... if you think you can handle it."  
>"I .. I can handle it."<br>"All right, then. Let's put that to the test. The group I represent has its home in the Ratway beneath Riften.. a tavern called the Ragged Flagon. Get there in one piece, and we'll see if you've really got what it takes."

He suddenly pushed past her, whispering as he did so.

"It's best if we no longer communicate up here. I'll see you down there.. Hopefully."

. . .

Vendethiel was exhausted and utterly at a loss. As she settled into a room at The Bee and Barb, a disgusting room with a chest, a chair, and a bed, having an appropriate rent of ten septims. She cuddled into the bed, hugging the dirty pillow to her chest, staring at her map that she had pinned to the wall so she could view it more freely.

If we wanted to get to High Hrothgar any time soon, she would have to start her travels tomorrow, but she was curious, oh so painfully curious about Brynjolf's organization. But, it was her duty as Dragonborn to save Skyrim, was it not...? But she was also her own person and should be allowed to do as she pleases...

The dark elf rolled onto her side, trying to ignore her ragged map. She closed her eyes, but reopened them, looking around, eventually letting her eyes land on her armor that she had laid out to repair. It was torn, but still usable. Currently, she wore some clothes she found lying in her room's chest that didn't quite fit her, but were enough. The skirt was too long and the shirt was too tight, but it was more comfortable than sleeping in her armor.

Vendethiel closed her eyes again, but this time, she did not reopen them. She took a few deep breaths, trying to calm herself and prepare her mind for the next morning.

. . .

She fell asleep almost too quickly.

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><p><strong>AN: **

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**Please look forward to Chapter Eight!**


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